


Butterfingers

by Snailhair



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels being killed, Angst, Butterfingers - Freeform, Dickie loves peanut butter, Flirting, Fluff, Fluffy Romance, Gabriel without his grace, Human Gabriel, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Destiel - Freeform, Inside jokes, Intense feels, Late night snacks, M/M, Nudity, Raphael trying to open the cage, Raphael trying to restart the apocalypse, Romance, Rufus's Cabin, Sabriel - Freeform, Sam and Gabriel growing closer, Sexual Tension, Smut, Stolen Grace, Titanic - Freeform, angsty over-arching plot, candy/toy store, chasing Raphael, hunting spell ingredients, snoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-08 09:37:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 56,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10383774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snailhair/pseuds/Snailhair
Summary: After learning that Gabriel's grace has been stolen - and that the archangel is now human - Sam and Dean are forced to help him track down the thief and take it back. During their mission, Gabriel soon discovers a craving for Butterfingers... and Sam discovers a craving for something else.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! *waves* Welcome to 'Butterfingers!' :D Before you read, you should probably know that this story doesn't follow canon much at all. In this storyline, I'm writing as though Dean and Sam were able to stop the apocalypse by caging Lucifer _without_ Sam saying 'yes' to him. This is also taking place before heaven's civil war, and Raphael is more focused on raising Lucifer than ruling heaven. So, think alternate season six opening in which Sam never went to hell. (I hope that makes sense.) If you have any questions, please ask! I will do my best to answer them. ;) Thank you all so much! Please enjoy!  <3

Sam tried to brush the dust off his jacket as he followed his brother into a diner. The place was mostly vacant, save a waitress pouring coffee for an old man perched at the bar. An old jukebox was humming nearby but the song was to faint to pick out. The entire restaurant was silent and peaceful – and Dean's gruff voice was ruining the soft atmosphere.

“Damn ghosts,” the older brother growled, practically storming up to the counter, “Why can't those damn things just cross over like everybody else, huh? Why do they have to stick around and give us hell? Stupid son of a bitch. I think I broke my knuckle again.”

Sam tried his best to give an apologetic smile to the waitress, who had glanced toward Dean with a look of confused shock. Dean's was grumbling loud enough to echo around the room and draw her attention. Sam casually picked up a menu to hover it over his face, embarrassed by his brother's lack of consideration for others. Sam knew Dean needed to bicker sometimes, but did he have to do it in public?

“Can I – get you boys anything?” the waitress timidly asked.

Dean opened his mouth to answer but his phone interrupted him, ringing in his pocket. As he reached into his jacket to retrieve it, Sam took over the conversation. He lowered the menu to meet eyes with the woman. Sam knew that his and Dean's presence was a bit intimidating – what with all the dirt and specks of blood on their clothes – so he tried being polite to counter their ruthless appearance.

“Uh, yeah, can we have a couple of burgers to go, please?” Sam replied, making his voice as friendly as possible.

“Pie,” Dean spat toward Sam before answering the phone and stepping away.

Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his brother's demanding tone. Dean wasn't helping with the whole 'friendly' thing Sam was trying to portray.

“And pie,” Sam added sweetly, “Any kind you have. To go.”

“Sure,” the waitress nodded and gave Sam a smile.

As soon as the woman headed for the kitchen, Sam took the time to glare at Dean. The guy had no right to act so rude just because he had gotten hurt on a case. But Sam's glare slowly shifted into a quizzical look as he watched his brother talk on the phone. Dean was loitering near the vacant window booths and seemed like he was having trouble understanding the person he was speaking to. Sammy stepped closer to his brother to figure out why he looked so confused.

“Whoa, whoa, hold on,” Dean said, his eyes narrowing in disbelief, “Say that again... Are you sure?... No, I believe you, Jerry. I just don't think it's the same guy... Hello?... Who is he asking for?... Sam? Why Sam?... Yeah, he's here... hold on.”

Sam blinked as Dean held the phone between them and pressed the speaker button. From what he heard, Sam assumed that Jerry – a hunter that lived in Montana – was on the line.

“Hello?” Sam said out loud, glancing back to make sure they weren't disturbing the old man at the counter.

“Sam,” Jerry's voice was clear, “There's a fella here asking for you.”

Sam gulped a little, unsure of how to take this statement. Who could possibly be looking for him? _Only_ him, and not Dean?

“Who?” Sam said, giving Dean an equal look of confusion.

“Well,” Jerry sighed, “when I asked him what his name was, he said ' _ask your mom, she was screaming it last night_.”

Dean and Sam raised eyebrows at each other. Sam was racking his brain, trying to figure out who had the gall to say something so rude to hunter like Jerry. Jerry could be easily mistaken for a cage fighter; bulky and muscular enough to take on a group monsters all by himself – which he had done, on occasion. Whoever this guy was obviously had a pretty staggering amount of self confidence...

“And you didn't kill him for saying that?” Dean asked, astounded.

“Normally, I would have. But, uh, this guy looks pitiful. I think somebody's already beat him up,” Jerry replied, sounding genuinely sympathetic, “Plus, he's pretty tiny. I could probably kill him with one punch. And there's no fun in that.”

After Jerry said this, there was a rustle on the line. Dean and Sam blinked toward each other while they listened to the commotion. It sounded like someone was struggling to get the phone out of Jerry's hands. After the muffled noises, a new voice came over the phone – and the hairs on the back of Sam's neck stood on end when he heard it.

“Don't flatter yourself, chubby,” Gabriel – the _trickster_ , the _archangel_ – said, sounding like he was talking toward Jerry, “You're lucky I'm stuck in this hairless-ape suit right now. Otherwise, I would have already smote your ass... Whoa, whoa, hey! I was only kidding! Put your fists down, King Kong! Easy!”

“Gabriel?” Dean said, before Sam could find his voice, “What the hell do _you_ want?”

“Oh no, not you,” Gabriel grumbled through the phone, “I don't want to talk to the short mouthy one. Lemme talk to the big one. Where's the kid? Is Sammy-boy there? Hellooo? Gabe to moose. Come in, moose.”

“Uh,” Sam stuttered, confused by the eagerness in the archangel's tone, “Y – yeah. I'm here.”

Sam had no idea why the trickster, of all people, wanted to talk to him. And, frankly, he didn't want to speak to Gabriel. Especially after what he had done to Dean at the Mystery Spot. Dean seemed just as uncomfortable with it, brooding toward the phone as they both listened to hear what Gabriel had to say. A breath of relief came over the line after Sam's statement.

“Ah, Tarzan. It sounds like you've been working out. Have you been working out?” Gabriel mentioned, “How's that flowing mane of yours, huh? You still got a full head of hair? I always did like those lengthy locks on you. And that plaid. You still wear flannel?”

“What do you want, Gabriel?” Sam asked flatly, unamused by the trickster's over-the-top flattery.

“Listen, kiddo,” Gabriel sighed, “You know I'm not one to crawl around with my tail between my legs and beg... but, um... I – I really need your help this time.”

Sam and Dean shared another glance of surprise. Gabriel was genuinely asking _them_ for help? Sam could already tell that Dean was wanting to hang up the phone and ignore the trickster altogether. And, after what Gabriel had done to him, Dean had every right to be unwilling to help the archangel. But – whether it was from his lifetime of watching creatures suffer, or knowing what it was like to need help and not receive it – Sam didn't feel the same chagrin that Dean did. On the contrary, Sam actually felt bad for him.

“Oh, you _need_ us now?” Dean said into the phone, his eyes narrowed, “So, the murderer needs help from his victims. Well, isn't _that_ a steaming pile of karma.”

“Geez, are you ever going to let go of that stupid Mystery Spot thing?” Gabriel said, exasperated, “Look, guys, this is serious! I'm in deep shit. And if you don't help me, all the other angels will be in deep shit, too. And you know what that means, don't you, Dean? That's right. Cassie will be in deep shit just like the rest of us.”

Dean's eyes flashed wide. Sam – and apparently Gabriel, too – knew that Dean had a soft spot for Cas. Dean never helped angels unless Cas was involved somehow. Sam could understand why Dean favored him of course, what with the whole rescue from hell and the countless times Cas appeared at Dean's beckon call. The trickster probably knew all of this too, and was using it to gain leverage. And it was working. Sam could see Dean's stern expression crumbling the longer he stared at the phone.

“... So, will you help me? For Cas's sake?” Gabriel prompted.

Dean gulped hard, like he was trying to swallow acid.

“You'd better not be lying to us,” he snapped, “Fly your ass over here.”

There was a nervous chuckle from the trickster. Sam and Dean both gave the phone a strange look. What was so funny about flying to their location?

“Well, see, that's part of the problem. I – I can't fly. I, um... I can't do much of anything. I'm kind of... I'm kind of _human_ ,” Gabriel said lowly, sounding embarrassed.

Sam blinked, feeling strange. Gabriel was human? But how? Skepticism was trying to take root in Sam's chest. Logic warned him that this might be another trick... But Sam's compassionate heart far outweighed his logistic mind. Acting on instinct and emotion, Sam took the phone from Dean's hand.

“Let me talk to Jerry,” the younger brother requested.

“You've got it, sweetheart,” Gabriel chimed.

Sam's stomach tensed with queasiness. Why the hell did Gabriel have to call him 'sweetheart?' Jerry's voice eventually came back on the line, distracting Sam from the weird feeling in his gut.

“What do you want me to do with this guy?” Jerry asked.

“We're about two hours out from your place, Jerry,” Sam said, glancing at his watch, “Can you keep him until we get there?”

“Uhh... I'd rather drop him off at the bus station in town. I'm trying to track down a vampire and his loud mouth keeps giving me away.”

Sam sighed. He knew it would probably be safer for Gabriel to stay with another person, given that he was now a helpless little human that could easily get hurt. But Sam couldn't deny that Gabriel _did_ have a loud mouth and would annoy the shit out of Jerry until _he_ finally killed him...

“That's fine,” Sam replied, “Can you just leave him there with a knife or something? Tell him that Dean and I will be there as soon as we can.”

“Will do, Sam,” Jerry replied, “Take care.”

“ _Dad bless you, moose!_ ” Gabriel's faint voice chorused in the background.

After hearing the line go dead, Sam pressed the 'end' button on the phone and turned around. He met Dean's stare and could see honest confusion in the guy's face. A flicker of discomfort lit up Sam's insides. Dean was probably surprised by Sam ripping the phone from him and taking charge all of the sudden. And, to be honest, Sam was surprised, too. He didn't know why he felt so strongly about helping Gabriel either. Maybe it was just because Sam remembered how helpless Cas had been when he became human for a while and it bugged him to think that Gabriel could be even more helpless. Besides, Gabriel said it effected all the angels, didn't he?

“Really, Sam? You want to _help_ the trickster?” Dean grumbled, taking his phone back.

“He might be telling the truth, Dean. Cas might be at risk, too,” Sam said, using the trickster's strategy of persuading Dean, “Look. Worse case scenario, you get to kill him yourself.”

Dean seemed to ponder this theory for a moment, glancing around with a thoughtful look on his face, before rolling his eyes and huffing a breath.

“Fine. But if we get screwed over again, it's on you, Sam,” he uttered, storming for the exit, “Now, get the pie and come on.”

Sam took a breath as he walked over to the counter. The waitress was already standing there, holding a brown bag. Sam gave her a gentle smile as he exchanged his money for the food, making sure to give her a generous tip. He gave the old man a friendly nod too, before stepping lightly toward the diner door, heading for Montana... And Gabriel.

* * *

Sam and Dean didn't say much on the way to the bus station to meet Gabriel. During the ride there, Sam was trying to brace himself for anything. He was fully aware that this could all just be a trick that Gabriel had devised; some sick way of using the Winchesters' empathy to lure them into a trap. Sam's heart and mind were still at war, each trying to win him over. ' _You're gonna get stuck in another time loop, idiot_ ,' the voice in his head told him, _'then you're gonna wish you hadn't wasted two hours of your life driving here_.'

But even though he knew this was a bad idea, Sam couldn't shake off his gut feeling. His intuition felt strong about this. Gabriel had sounded so genuine on the phone, using his witty charm and cheesy flattery to convince them of his plight. Well, he did his best to convince _Sam_ , anyway. It seemed like he didn't even want to speak to Dean. What was it about Sam that Gabriel favored? Did he like Sam better because he was the nicer of the two Winchesters? Was it because Sam was more trustworthy? Kinder? More sympathetic? Whatever the case, Sam couldn't help but feel secretly pleased. It was nice to be doted on and given ridiculous nicknames. Even if they were from the trickster...

The bus station came into view a couple miles into town. It was pouring the rain, and Sam could barely see through the windshield as the wipers streaked back and forth. The closer the Impala came to the bus stop, the clearer the view became. Dean parked the car near the entrance and the two brothers dashed out into the rain. They raced toward the building to avoid getting wet but their feet drew to a halt when they heard a faint whistle. Sam bumped into Dean and both their eyes darted toward the right. Gabriel was huddled underneath a bus stop canopy, soaking wet. Sam and Dean glanced at each other before dashing under the safety of the canopy to get out of the rain.

Once close enough to him, Sam took the time to appraise Gabriel's condition. The archangel was wearing a jacket that was clearly too big for him and his clothes and shaggy blonde hair were dripping wet. Sam was surprised to see that the trickster was holding a small dog inside his jacket, a white and brown Jack Russell Terrier who was also wet and shivering. While the dog's presence confused Sam, it was nothing compared to how he felt when he saw Gabriel's face. The poor guy looked like he had come out second best in a bar fight or something; black eye, bloody nose, cut lip, swollen cheek. Never, in all the time Sam had known him, did Gabriel ever appeared so wounded. The guy must have really been telling the truth about being human, because an angel never looked this bad...

As soon as Sam and Dean stepped under the canopy with him, a awkward smile spread across Gabriel's injured lips. His golden eyes beamed brightly up at Sam and as he curled the little dog tighter against his chest.

“You two are literally a sight for sore eyes,” he mused, talking over the sound of the heavy rain, “I tell ya, my dad must still be alive and kicking somewhere. 'Cause miracles _do_ happen.”

“What the hell happened to you?” Sam blurted, shocked by the archangel's injuries.

“Yeah. Do you mind telling us why we wasted an entire tank of gasoline to come and see your sorry ass?” Dean added, obviously not concerned with Gabriel's state of being.

Sam watched the cute little dog nuzzle his nose deeper inside Gabriel's over-sized jacket as the trickster readied his words. The look of happiness on the trickster's broken face dimmed.

“Okay. Here's the scoop,” Gabriel began, taking a breath, “A few hours ago, I was wandering around, smiting assholes and minding my own business, when my dipshit brother, Raphael – who I assumed was dead, by the way – comes waltzing up to me with an angel blade -”

“Wait. Stop. Hold up,” Dean interrupted, “Raphael? You mean the teenage mutant ninja angel? Cas and I left his ass inside a ring of holy fire. How did he get out?”

“How am I supposed to know? Maybe one of his henchmen blew out the fire,” Gabriel shrugged, still shivering, “Anyways, like I was saying, Riff-Raph shows up with an angel blade, rambling something about needing my grace. I told him to get out of my face before I snapped my fingers and turned him into a Christmas ornament because I could tell he didn't have any grace of his own -”

“Raphael didn't have his grace?” Sam interrupted, eyebrows curving together.

“No. He was pretty much as human as I am now,” Gabriel answered, his blackened eyes meeting Sam's.

“Then, what happened to his mojo?” Dean asked.

“What, do you think we sat down and cried on each others' shoulders, Oprah?” Gabriel spat, squinting briefly toward Dean, “I don't know why he didn't have any juice. All I know is that he slit my throat with that stupid angel blade and took all _my_ grace, okay? _He's_ got _my_ grace! My brother is basically strolling around the world wearing _my_ underwear. Do you see how sick that is?!”

Sam and Dean grimaced at each other. That did sound pretty wrong. But Sam was still confused.

“Did he say why he needed it?” he asked, searching Gabriel's injured expression for an honest answer.

“Well, he didn't exactly spell it out, but I've got a theory,” the trickster sighed, “I think he took it to get the ball rolling again on the whole 'end of the world' party.”

Chills raced across Sam's skin. The apocalypse? Raphael was trying to get the apocalypse started _again_?! But Dean and Sam had _finally_ put all that shit to bed. Now, some rouge archangel was out there trying to make it happen again? To raise _Lucifer_ again? But _why_?

“Now, now. Don't go all pale on me, Sasquatch,” Gabriel said with a chattering jaw as he reached out to pat Sam's arm, “I'm not gonna let Raph pop open the box. That's why I came to you guys. 'Cause you're the ones who stopped it before, am I right?”

“Let me get this straight,” Dean said, still speaking over the sound of the rain, “Raphael stole your grace, turned you into a whiny little sack of flesh, and left to go restart the freakin' apocalypse?”

“In a nutshell? Yeah,” Gabriel said, his hand slipping from Sam's arm, “but, uh, that's not all.”

Dean huffed loudly, rolling his eyes.

“Of course it's not,” he grumbled, “Tell us.”

Gabriel's throat visibly quivered as he swallowed. His golden eyes were glancing around with discomfort.

“Raphie, he's... he's trying to kill me,” Gabriel said, almost inaudible under the sound of heavy rain, “He beat the shit out of me after he took my grace, hoping to end me right then and there. That's why I look like a Fight Club reject. See, if I die, he gets to keep my grace. Permanently. As long as I'm alive, my grace is always going to fight him. So, he's just gonna keep taking shots at me until I'm dead.”

Sam watched Gabriel's amber eyes flicker to meet his own. A hint of embarrassment rose on the trickster's cheeks underneath his bruises when he looked away again. Gabriel hugged his dog a little tighter, tucking both arms around him. Sam could tell that the trickster was genuinely humiliated by the state his was in. Human. Wounded. Hunted. The pitiful sight of a grace-less archangel clinging to a wet puppy in the rain was so heartbreaking to Sam. Why did he feel the urge to wrap Gabriel into a hug all of the sudden?

“We'll hide you.”

The words left Sam's mouth before he knew it. Both Gabriel and Dean's eyes flashed toward Sam. Once again, the younger Winchester was surprised by his own statement. He was offering to help the same guy that had tortured him in a time loop and stuck him in TV hell. And the strangest part, was that he actually _wanted_ to help the trickster. A small part of Sam was still hesitant to believe that this whole story could be true... But, dammit, Gabriel looked so sad, standing in the rain with nothing but wet clothes and a shivering dog. How could Sam ever turn away from something so forlorn?

“Uh, excuse me?” Dean said, his eyes wide, “We're going to _what_?”

Sam blinked back toward Gabriel, watching his golden eyes fill with hopefulness.

“Look at him, Dean,” Sam said, gesturing to Gabriel's blackened eye and bloody nose, “He's never going to make it without us.”

Although an awkward smile graced Gabriel's face, Dean made a noise that sounded similar to a grunt of disapproval. The older brother grabbed Sam's arm before giving Gabriel a fierce look.

“Don't move, shorty,” Dean warned.

Before Sam could argue, Dean was pulling him away from the trickster. They didn't go very far, just to the edge of the canopy where the rain was falling in sheets against the roof. Dean huddled close to Sam in order to talk lower, though Sam was sure that Gabriel could probably still hear him.

“What the hell is the matter with you, Sam?!” Dean hissed, “Do you realize that you're talking about the same asshole that stuck our asses in TV land? He forced you to do a herpes commercial, Sammy. _A herpes commercial_!”

“I know, Dean,” Sam grumbled, not wanting to remember it, “but we need to put that shit behind us. Unless you want Michael and Lucifer to try and wear us to the prom, _again_ , I think we need to help Gabriel get his grace back. And if Raphael keeps trying to kill him, then we need to hide him.”

Dean's sigh was long, heavy, and full of rage. He closed his eyes briefly as if he was trying to block out all of the thoughts of murdering Gabriel. In the meantime, Sam glanced back to see the trickster a few feet away. Gabriel was gently scratching the top of his dog's head, reaching down into his jacket to pet the little guy. Another ache of pity washed over Sam. Where did Gabriel get that dog, anyway? Sam never knew he had a pet...

“Son of a bitch,” Dean growled next to Sam, “Alright, fine. Where are we gonna stash this bastard?”

“Well, we're pretty close to Rufus's cabin,” Sam suggested.

Dean took a breath and forced a nod before turning back around. Gabriel's head rose to greet them as the brothers walked back toward him.

“So, what's the verdict, gentlemen? Am I worthy enough of your kindness?” he asked.

“No, you're not,” Dean spat, “but I guess until we sort out all this apocalyptic shit, we've got no choice. You're coming with us.”

The smile that lit up Gabriel's lips made Sam's stomach tighten with delight. The trickster peered into his jacket, looking down at his dog.

“You hear that, Dickie? We've been adopted!” he rejoiced.

“Yeah, yeah. Don't get all sentimental about it, asshole. You still owe us a hundred Tuesdays,” Dean said, before turning to his brother, “Sammy, get him in the car. I'm gonna call Jerry and make sure he's not using the cabin.”

Sam nodded as Dean handed him the keys. The older brother lingered behind to get out his cell phone as the younger brother motioned for the trickster to follow him. The two of them left Dean – both already soaked from head to toe – and ran to the Impala, where Sam quickly unlocked the backdoor for Gabriel. Once the trickster was safe inside, Sam rounded the hood to climb into the front passenger seat, shaking the wet hair out of his face as he went. For a moment after they were both inside, the only sound in the car was heavy breathing. Sam turned sideways in the seat to get a better look at the archangel behind him, who was carefully unzipping his jacket.

“Geez, that's s – some cold r – rain,” Gabriel mentioned, his jaw chattering like crazy, “Has rain always b – been that cold?”

Sam felt bad for Gabriel. Angels probably never knew what it was like to be cold and wet. This was probably the first time Gabriel had actually experienced rain for what it was. Harsh and unforgiving.

“You get used to it,” Sam said, trying to comfort him.

After brushing his wet hair back, Sam looked over the seat to watch the Jack Russell Terrier poke his head out from the top of Gabriel's jacket. His little brown nose sniffed the air as he shivered against the trickster's chest. A strange feeling came over Sam again while his eyes wandered over both the dog and the man holding him. It had been a long time since Sam had been this close to a dog...

“What, um... what did you say his name was?” Sam almost whispered against the silence.

He was trying to be friendly and break the weird tension that Dean had created among them. Luckily, Gabriel's sliced lips formed another smile at Sam's question. The trickster carefully unzipped the rest of his jacket before gently scooping the dog into his hands. He held the little guy out toward Sam, letting the dog's tiny body wiggle around and his tail wag in the air. Sam met Gabriel's eyes to make sure it was okay before taking the dog from him. As soon as the Jack Russell Terrier was in Sam's lap, he climbed up to lick the man's face. Sam chuckled a bit, nodding away from the incessant tongue.

“His name is Dickie,” Gabriel answered.

“Dickie?” Sam repeated, after which the dog barked, “Why did you name him that?”

“Because all he ever thinks about is his own dick,” Gabriel said, “Male, female, dog, cat, horse, human, fire hydrant, his own tail... He'll hump anything.”

After hearing this, Sam assumed that the dog would try to hump him in some way; maybe jump into the floor board and latch onto his leg or something. But he didn't. Instead, Dickie curled up into a ball in Sam's lap. The little dog was still shivering and trying to cling to Sam's body heat. Sam smiled as he reached down and ran his hand over Dickie's wet fur. Poor little guy. He needed a nice fire place to lay in front of.

“Hey, um, Sammy-boy?”

Sam looked up at the sound of his own name. Gabriel had leaned forward to cross his arms on the front seat and rest his bruised chin on them. He was looking up at Sam through darkened, swollen eyelids, his expression soft and meaningful. The longer Sam stared at him, the more Sam felt bad about his injuries. They really needed to call Cas and see if he could heal the poor guy.

“Yeah?” Sam prompted.

“I don't know why you're doing this for me, and I have no idea how in the world you convinced your brother to help, but I, um... You know, I'm... uh, what I'm trying to say is -”

“You're welcome,” Sam interrupted.

He knew that it was too difficult for the trickster to say 'thank you.' The words probably weren't in Gabriel's vocabulary and Sam could understand why. After millenniums of having God-like strength, Gabriel was used to never having to say 'thank you' to anyone. But now that he was _human_ , he was forced to deal with the humbleness of having nothing. And it secretly amused Sam to watch Gabriel trying to be grateful.

The driver's side door opened suddenly, briefly filling the car with the sound of pouring rain. Dean dashed inside, dripping wet. As soon as he sat down and shut the door, he took a deep breath – and his nose scrunched in repulsion.

“Ugh. This whole damn car smells like wet dog,” he grumbled, tossing Sam a look of annoyance, “I hope you're happy, Sam.”

Sam shifted Dickie closer to his abdomen as he stole another glance toward the backseat. Gabriel had scooted back and zipped his jacket back up, golden eyes watching the rain slide down the window next to him as he felt along his own battered face. Though Sam didn't say it out loud, the answer to Dean's question was 'yes.' He didn't exactly know _why_ , but right now – as he sat in the Impala next to his brother, with a dog in his arms and the trickster in the backseat – Sam was very happy.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean flipped on the light switch to the cabin living room, illuminating the dim dusty air inside. The faint smells of burnt firewood and damp moss lingered in the cabin, just like Sam remembered. The place was vacant and silent, but still full of a certain presence. Maybe it was just the remains of Rufus's life – his tattered blankets on the bunk beds in the corner, or the stack of empty coffee cans near the fridge – that made it feel like this cabin was still being occupied. Whatever it was, Sam liked it. Even though Rufus was gone and this place had turned into a safe house, all those little things still made it feel like a home.

“We're lucky the power still works, I guess,” Dean mentioned as he led the way inside.

Behind him, Sam and Gabriel were walking next to each other. Sam was still carrying the archangel's dog, who had finally stopped shivering. Gabriel was cradling both his swollen cheek and his stomach, sort of limping with each step. His injuries must have really been painful. Again, Sam couldn't help but feel at least a little sorry for him. The guy could barely walk without grimacing.

“Ow. My face hurts,” Gabriel mumbled, slowing to a stop in the middle of the room.

Sam glanced down at Gabriel, catching another glimpse of his blackened eyes and puffy cheeks. Although Sam felt the urge to comfort the trickster, he knelt down to carefully release Gabriel's dog instead. The little Jack Russell Terrier instantly started sniffing his way around the cabin to get familiar with it.

“If I had a face as ugly as yours, I'm sure it would hurt too,” Dean said from across the room, a smirk flashing on his lips.

Sam could tell that Dean's tone was playful, now. It seemed like the small trip to Rufus's cabin had lightened him up a little. Sam was glad that Dean was at least being somewhat decent now. Next to Sam, Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“Hey, freckles,” the trickster hissed toward Dean, “Second grade called. It wants its joke back.”

Sam smiled and shook his head as he walked toward the fireplace. He should have known that Dean and Gabriel would start insulting each other sooner or later.

“Seriously, though,” Gabriel added, still clutching his own body, “How do you guys put up with this pain? Ugh. I've got this sharp ache in the pit of my gut that keeps getting worse.”

“Did Raphael kick you in the nuts?” Sam asked, flashing the trickster a grin, “'Cause that'll do it to you.”

“No, sweetheart. My balls are fine, in case you were wondering,” Gabriel replied, pausing to grunt a little, “Oh my dad. I'm gonna die. We need to do something, fast! Dean, call for Cassie. I need his healing hands.”

As Sam stacked some fresh wood into the fireplace, he looked back to meet eyes with his brother. Dean glanced between Sam and Gabriel, probably wondering why they both looked toward him when Cas's name was mentioned.

“What? Why me?” he asked as if he didn't already know.

“Just do it, Dean,” Sam said, tossing another log inside the fireplace, “We need to tell him what's going on anyway. And you know he only answers for you.”

After sighing loudly and tossing his jacket on the kitchen table, Dean tilted his head back to glare at the ceiling.

“You hear that, Cas?” he said out loud, “We need you to come to Rufus's cabin and touch your brother.”

Once the prayer was said, all three of them searched the room, watching to see where Cas would land. But after several seconds of waiting, there was still no sign of him. Sam and Dean met eyes again and the younger brother could see a slight hint of worry in his older brother's stare.

“Cas, I know you can hear me,” Dean said out loud, still looking around, “Don't ignore us, dammit.”

There was still no rustle of feathers even after Dean's statement. Cas didn't appear. Was he busy with something? Or was he – God forbid – in trouble? The anxiousness in Dean's eyes grew as Gabriel groaned out loud again. The archangel was crossing his legs tightly and fidgeting awkwardly near the couch. His amber eyes were set on Sam and they were full of urgency.

“Argh! Sammy-boy, please. Tell me what's going on with this stupid meat suit,” he pleaded, actually reaching out to tug on Sam's shirt sleeve, “I feel like something is about to explode!”

“Maybe you have to pee,” Sam suggested, recognizing the familiar signs of a ' _I need piss so bad right now_ ' dance.

Gabriel paused to look strangely at Sam while he continued to prance up and down in place.

“Pee? You mean urinate like some common _animal_?” he said, which warranted a small growl from Dickie across the room, “I don't even know how to do that!”

“It's easy. Just point and shot,” Sam said, reaching out to clutch Gabriel's tiny shoulders.

Though Gabriel's eyes held a hint of apprehension, he stumbled along willingly with Sam's hands as the man pushed him toward the bathroom. Sam was sure that all Gabriel needed to do was drain his bladder and then his stomach pain would go away. And he might finally stop whining.

“And take a shower while you're in there,” Dean ordered, “You smell like the business end of a jackass.”

“Oh, that's rich, coming from somebody who _is one_ ,” Gabriel shot back, sticking his tongue out like a five-year-old for good measure.

Sam sighed aloud as he forced Gabriel the rest of the way into the bathroom. Listening to Dean and Gabriel bicker like children was already starting to get on his nerves... The cabin bathroom smelled strongly of mildew and damp wood, where it hadn't been used in awhile. But other than that, the room was fairly clean and usable; stocked with hygienic supplies, extra clothes, and first aid kits. Sam walked Gabriel up to the toilet, feeling like he was potty training a child. The archangel was still wiggling around with discomfort and staring at Sam with wide eyes.

“Make sure you raise the seat before doing anything,” Sam instructed, slowly backing out of the doorway to give Gabriel some privacy, “and flush when you're done. And if you take a shower, there are some towels and a robe in that little closet.”

“You're, um... you're gonna leave me alone?” Gabriel asked under his breath.

Sam had never seen such emotion in the trickster's eyes. They were large and worried, tinted with fearful anxiety. It was obvious that the guy really didn't want to be left alone. Maybe Raphael's visit had traumatized him. Maybe the thought of dying frightened Gabriel in a way Sam couldn't fathom. Gabriel – an archangel who had every intention of living forever – had come close to meeting his end today. And it was understandable that he didn't want to be left alone. But he was in _the bathroom_. Everything done in this room would _have_ to be done alone.

“I'll just be right outside,” Sam reminded, trying to ease his mind, “Just yell if you need anything.”

Gabriel nodded and pursed his bruised lips together as he watched Sam back away. When the door gently snapped shut, Sam lingered near it and listened to hear if Gabriel was able to figure out how to work his bladder. After a rustle of clothing, Sam heard the tiny sound of liquid drizzling against liquid – and a giant sigh of relief.

“ _Sweet baby Jesus_ ,” Gabriel rejoiced loudly, “ _Ahh, that feels so much better!_ ”

Sam smiled and shook his head again as he started for the living room. It was so strange watching someone struggle with things that were supposed to come naturally. As Sam walked back into the open living room, he noticed that Dean was standing near the window. His head was tilted downward and he was whispering. The closer Sam got to him, the clearer Dean's words became.

“I didn't mean what I said the other day, Cas. I was just playing around, okay? Please come to Rufus's cabin, man. We need you,” Dean prayed sincerely.

Sam quickly went about putting more dry wood in the fireplace as Dean turned around, wanting to seem like he hadn't been listening to the private prayer. Dean, of course, acted as though he hadn't said anything. He just walked over to his duffel bag to peruse the contents.

“Blondie figure out how to use his hose?” he asked out loud, probably making small talk.

“I guess. I really didn't see it for myself,” Sam replied, reaching into his pocket to pull out a lighter.

As Sam tried to get fire to catch on the dry wood, he heard the faint sound of a flush, followed by the shower turning on. In his mind, Sam was trying to imagine what Gabriel was doing in the bathroom. Did the trickster know how to use the knobs in the shower? Did he know that the water would burn him if it was too hot? Would he remember to close the curtain while the water was running? Would he just end up making a huge mess?

“ _Hey, fellas_ ,” Gabriel's muffled voice called, “ _Am_ _I supposed to take my clothes off first?_ ”

Sam and Dean flashed a glance toward each other, both equally exasperated. Really? Was Gabriel _that_ naïve?

“Uh, Yeah. That's kinda the whole point, dumbass,” Dean shouted back.

“ _But my clothes are dirty too, moron_ ,” the trickster snapped.

“Clothes are washed separately,” Sam answered aloud, finally getting the wood to catch fire.

Thankfully, Gabriel's questions stopped for a moment. Sam prodded the dry logs to get the fire to spread as Dean loitered near the table. Once heat began glowing from the fireplace, Dickie moseyed his way over to sniff the rug in front of it. Sam smiled thoughtfully as he watched the little dog curl up into another ball on the floor to snuggle close to the warmth. Sam ruffled Dickie's soft fur a little, enjoying the silky texture. This was the main reason Sam had even started a fire actually, so that Gabriel's dog would be more comfortable.

“Alright, Cas. You've had plenty of time,” Dean prayed again as Sam stood up, “If you can hear me, you need to get here. Don't be a dick, man. Report to the cabin, pronto.”

Even though Dean's voice was stern and demanding, Cas still didn't arrive. The room remained vacant and silent apart from the Winchesters and the sound of cackling firewood. Sam could see the worry mounting in Dean's green eyes as they searched the room in desperation. And Sam felt just as concerned as his brother did. Cas never ignored Dean. The angel always showed up the instant Dean prayed to him. There was only a handful of conclusions that could be drawn from his absence... and Sam didn't want to think about any of them.

“ _Why do I have to repeat?_ ” Gabriel shouted from the bathroom.

Sam's eyebrows drew together as he glanced in the direction the trickster's voice came from. What in the world was he talking about?

“Repeat what?” Sam asked loudly.

“ _This bottle says lather, rinse, repeat,_ ” the archangel said, sounding annoyed, “ _How many times to I have to repeat? What the hell is this? A cleansing ritual? Am I sacrificing my hair to the gods?_ ”

“Just do it once, Gabriel,” Sam sighed.

“ _And what am I supposed to do with this slippery rock thing? Mmm. It smells like blueberries. Can I eat it?_ ” the trickster asked.

Sam assumed that the 'slippery rock thing' was a bar of soap. He actually debated on telling Gabriel that it was edible just to make the archangel bite into it and gag, but he didn't.

“That's soap. Just rub it on your body,” Sam grumbled.

“ _Why is it so slippery?_ ” Gabriel continued to rant, “ _I can barely hold on to – AHHH!_ ”

A loud clatter broke through the room, which caused Dean and Sam to instantly reach for the guns in their waistbands. It was a loud tumbling noise, like the sound of someone falling down a set of stairs – only it had come from the bathroom. With the sound of Gabriel's shriek, Sam thought that maybe the trickster had slipped on the soap and fell in the shower. But Sam's hunting experience made him think of other possibilities as well. What if someone was in there with Gabriel? What if another angel had popped in to kidnap him? Gabriel's yammering voice had stopped, leaving the shower to be the only sound coming from the bathroom.

“Sammy,” Dean said, his hand on his own gun, “Go check it out.”

“What? Why me?” Sam asked, bewildered.

Dean's eyes narrowed with authority to which Sam had no choice but to comply. The younger brother rolled his eyes but retrieved his own gun from his waistband, pointing it downward with both hands as he stepped carefully toward the bathroom door. He could still hear the water running inside.

“Gabriel?” Sam asked loudly, hoping the archangel would reply.

No such reply came, though. The only way Sam could figure out if Gabriel was okay was to go inside and look around. After taking a breath to steady himself, Sam clicked his gun into place and grabbed the door handle. He dashed into the room quickly and pointed his weapon forward to give the tiny space a once-over. At eye level, nothing was out of the ordinary – but the floor was a different story.

The first thing that Sam's eyes fell upon as his head tilted downward was the sight of Gabriel's pale bare ass cheeks. The archangel was on all fours, crawling around like a wet turtle trying to get back to his feet. And his ass was _right there_ , on display for the whole world to see. But his round cheeks weren't the _only_ part of him that Sam noticed. With the angle he was crawling in, Gabriel's scrotum was swaying between his thighs too, teasing Sam with the sight of the dark-pink sack dangling out in the open.

For a few seconds, Sam was simply frozen in place, unable to look away from the archangel's genitals peeking out from between his legs. All of the blood drained from Sam's face. In that tiny space of time, Sam found that he was horrified, embarrassed – and ever so slightly _aroused_. Sam's body reacted to the sight against his will, internally sending an electric pulse toward his dick without his consent. The moment he regained motor control, though, Sam tore his eyes away from Gabriel's naked body.

“G – Gabriel! What the hell?!” Sam breathed, blinking repeatedly toward sink.

“Ow,” the archangel squeaked, “That damn blueberry bar made me fall! Ugh, I think I broke a rib, moosie.”

“Get – get some _clothes_ on!” Sam demanded as he stumbled back out of the bathroom.

The man quickly slammed the door shut, retreating to the safety of another room. Sam's face was still pale and he was breathing heavily from his open mouth, blinking toward the darkened floor with shock. He just saw Gabriel's bare naked ass. But the worst part of all was that he had been _aroused_ by it. Sam was honestly ashamed by his own body's reaction. The sight of a man's ass didn't turn him on, did it? Why would the sight of Gabriel crawling around – with his back arched and his ass sticking out – effect Sam in an erotic way? He wasn't gay. And he certainly didn't have a fondness for the trickster... did he?

“Cas!”

The sound of Dean's voice pulled Sam from uncomfortable thoughts of sexuality. After he heard Dean say Cas's name, Sam dashed back into the living room and a sigh of relief escaped his mouth when he caught sight of a familiar trench coat. Cas had finally made it to the cabin. The angel was standing on shaky legs next to Dean, who was holding him steady with one hand. Cas was acting like he just got through running a marathon or something; mouth open and panting, eyes wide, hands trembling. He and Dean were staring at each other when Sam ran in.

“Hey, what happened to you?” Dean asked the angel, eyes full of concern.

“I was attacked,” Cas informed, glancing from Dean to Sam, “By my own kin.”

“Angels? Why? What did they want with you? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Dean was speaking in a blur.

“I don't know why,” Cas answered, still out of breath, “I barely got away. I believe they intended to kill me.”

“Was it Raphael?” Sam asked, remembering what the archangel had done to Gabriel.

“R – Raphael?” Cas repeated, his eyes full of confusion.

“Yeah. Raphael jacked Gabriel's mojo. Didn't you know that?” Dean said.

“He took Gabriel's grace?” Cas breathed, “Why? How?”

“Gabriel told us that Raphael is trying to restart the apocalypse,” Sam answered.

“And he took Gabriel's grace because he didn't have his own,” Dean added.

Cas's eyes softened as if he had just gained a bit of understanding. The angel took a deep breath and met Dean's eyes again.

“That makes sense,” he muttered.

“Sorry, Cas, but that doesn't make a damn lick of sense to us,” Dean said, shaking his head, “You mind shedding some light?”

“Dean, if Raphael intends to free Michael and Lucifer, he would need the entire potency of an archangel's grace to break open the cage,” Cas said quietly, “Perhaps he means to use his own grace to set the plan in motion and keep Gabriel's grace for himself. The ambush against me proves this theory plausible. It would be a prudent step to eliminate me before his work begins.”

“Eliminate _you_? Why _you_?” Dean asked.

“Because he knows that I will stand with you, always,” Cas answered, his voice holding total honesty, “and that I will use everything in my power to stop this from happening again.”

There was a brief moment of silence in which Dean and Cas stared at each other meaningfully. Sam thought about coughing out loud to break the weird vibe that was growing in the room, but he was interrupted by Gabriel.

“Cassafras!” the trickster rejoiced.

Sam spun around, feeling an echo of sexual discomfort radiate through him at the sound of Gabriel's voice. The archangel was walking into the living room, wearing one of the faded orange robes from the bathroom closet. His blonde hair was still dripping wet and his face was still bruised and swollen. When Gabriel strolled passed Sam, the man couldn't stop his eyes from wandering toward the archangel's ass – and feeling that strange flicker of weirdness again.

“My favoritest little baby bro!” Gabriel grinned, wrapping Cas into a giant hug, “Oh, I've missed you! You look great!”

“Gabriel, did Raphael tell you of his plan?” Cas asked, pulling himself out of the trickster's arms in order to look at him properly.

“Uh! Really? _That's_ the first thing you say to me? No, ' _Hey, Gabe, you're lookin' pretty good yourself_?' Nothing?” the trickster said, crossing his arms dramatically, “Hmph. Some brother you are.”

Cas took a large breath, harboring irritation, before exhaling.

“Hello, Gabriel,” the angel forced out, “How are you?”

“Not so good, Cassie. Raphael thought it would be funny to trap me in an ape suit and beat me up today,” Gabriel replied, gesturing toward his own face, “By the way, do you think you could, uh...?”

Though Cas seemed utterly done with Gabriel dancing around the subject of Raphael, the angel reached out to tap Gabriel's forehead. The bruises, cuts, scrapes, and swelling disappeared from the archangel's face at once, leaving his complexion smooth and soft. Sam's eyes searched Gabriel's repaired face, noticing how familiar – and strangely _handsome_ – he looked. Once again, Sam was offended by his own thoughts. First, it turns out that Gabriel has a nice ass and now the guy has a pretty face?! Was there a full moon out or something? Why was Sam noticing all of these things about Gabriel?

“Ahh, much better,” Gabriel commented, patting his own cheeks.

“Tell me what you know,” Cas nearly demanded.

“Okay, look, baby bird,” the archangel began, “all I know is that Raphie took my grace and high-tailed it out of town after he tried to kill me. The only thing he said – while he was standing over my limp body, I might add – was that he was going to cleanse all of Daddy's creation of rebellious scum like me. And I'm pretty sure that includes you, 'cause you're kinda like the poster boy for rebellion, am I right?”

“He's gathering followers, then,” Cas concluded, his eyes flickering toward Dean, “and killing the rest.”

“The ninja turtle is making his own army? Why?” Dean asked.

“To help him lay siege to hell,” Cas answered, “Even with an archangel's grace, it will take an army to get to the cage and break it open, Dean. The demons won't be happy about this either. They are just as at risk of dying as everyone else.”

“Well, we've gotta stop him then,” Dean stated.

As Dean and Cas were talking, Gabriel was yawning loudly, reaching his arms behind his head to stretch. Afterward, he plopped himself onto the couch in front of the fireplace and whistled for his dog. Dickie's head popped up from the rug before he dashed over to join his owner on the couch.

“I don't think you healed me all the way, Castiel,” the trickster interrupted the conversation to say, “I feel weak. Like I'm dying.”

“You're not dying. You're probably just tired,” Sam informed, watching Gabriel's pink lips stretch wide open to yawn again.

“I can't afford to be tired, Sammy. Stella's gotta get her groove back,” the archangel argued, “I should go out there and dare Raphael to come and smite me -”

“You will do no such thing,” Cas barked, intensely serious, “You will stay hidden from him until we figure out his plan. Your grace won't continue to obey him forever, which makes killing you his first priority. For now, I'll search to see if he's made any impact on -”

“Whoa, whoa,” Dean interrupted, “You're gonna go back out there? They tried to _kill_ you, Cas!”

“Dean, I must find out how close Raphael has come to completing his plan,” the angel replied, his feet already stepping away, “I need to figure out how many others he has already killed and estimate how many are following him. If we're going to war, we need to be ready.”

Sam watched as Dean's hand jutted out to grab a handful of the front of Cas's coat. There was a pleading look in his eyes that Sam rarely ever saw. Dean looked absolutely dead-set against Cas leaving; jaw clicked tight and head shaking back and forth.

“You can't go out there, Cas,” he said, his voice much lower than before.

Cas raised a hand to place it over Dean's clutching fist. In a swift motion, he plucked Dean's hand from his coat and gently tossed it away. His blue eyes were probing Dean's with assurance as the two of them stared at each other.

“I must, Dean,” the angel replied simply, “... but I will return.”

Without another word, Cas disappeared, leaving Dean to look around in defeat. Sam felt bad for his older brother. He knew that Cas was Dean's best friend; that the two of them had a bond that Sam couldn't understand. And he was sure that Cas's departure had left Dean feeling even worse than before.

“You better be careful, you dumb son of a bitch,” Dean growled, glancing toward the ceiling.

Sam took a breath and stepped forward. He felt the need to comfort his brother or at least distract him from his own anxiety.

“Do _we_ have a plan, Dean?” Sam asked, hoping to get Dean's attention.

“I... I don't know. I guess we're stuck babysitting Goldilocks until Cas gets back,” Dean eventually answered, turning around to start for his duffel bag, “If Cas is right, then the trickster is enemy number one and he needs protection. It just sucks that it has to be us.”

Sam nodded, even though he didn't feel the same way. Watching Gabriel wasn't _that_ bad. The dude was annoying, sure. But babysitting him wasn't the worst thing in the world...

Dean gathered up a few things from his bag and mumbled something along the lines of ' _there better be some hot water left_ ,' before stomping off toward the bathroom. Once Dean was gone, Sam noticed that there was a quiet gurgling noise in the room. It sounded like someone was trying to swallow their own tongue – and it was coming from the couch. Sam instantly dove toward it, thinking that Gabriel was choking on something. But he wasn't choking. He was _snoring_.

Sam took an easing breath as he watched the trickster snore. Gabriel had fallen asleep sitting up on the couch with Dickie in his lap. A weird feeling stirred up in Sam's stomach again as he took the time to glancing along Gabriel's closed eyes, tiny nose, and open mouth. The sight of him snoring was rather humorous... and, somehow, strangely pleasant. The archangel was all tuckered out like a kid who had been running around all day. And though he would never admit it out loud, Sam thought Gabriel looked, well... kind of adorable.

Knowing that Gabriel would wake up with a kink in his neck, Sam reached down to gently knock him over, making him lay down on the couch. The archangel slumped over, causing his mouth to finally close and the snoring to stop. Once Gabriel was completely flat, Sam took the throw blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over him, wrapping him in an extra layer of warmth. Dickie crawled out from under the blanket afterward to curl up at Gabriel's feet again. Sam pet the dog as he flashed another glance up at the trickster's face. Gabriel looked really peaceful with the glow of the fireplace shining on his restful expression, his damp golden hair tossed all over the arm of the couch, and comfy fabrics all snuggled around him. He looked really comfortable. He looked really... beautiful.

“Goodnight,” Sam said, toward the dog he was petting.

Dickie gave Sam's hand a tiny lick before the man backed away from the couch. On his way across the room, Sam was thinking many things. He was worrying about Cas, wondering if Dean would feel better after a shower, hoping that Gabriel would stay safe while he was in the cabin...

But more than anything, Sam was trying his best to figure out how the trickster had become so irritatingly attractive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mentioned this in the original AN and I think I should state it again: That part where Gabriel falls because of the "slippery rock thing" totally came from George of the Jungle. lol. :D It's one of my favorite movies. (The narrator is my favorite part.) ;) As you can tell, this story is gonna have a lot of heavy background plot going on, but it's mostly gonna be about Sam and Gabe. With hints of Dean and Cas to keep things even more interesting. ;) Thank you guys so much for reading and commenting! And for all those kudos. I really appreciate every single one! You guys are the best. <3 The next chapter will be out very soon! <3


	3. Chapter 3

“Sammy-boy? _Saaammy_. Hey, kid.”

Sam rolled away from the hand shoving against his shoulder, determined to remain asleep. At first, he thought it was just Dean being an annoying brother by trying to wake him up in the middle of the night just to be a dick. It took Sam a second to realize that it wasn't Dean's voice speaking to him. It was Gabriel's.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” the trickster hissed, “Wake your perky ass up!”

Sam blinked his eyes open in the dark and rolled back over on the bottom bunk bed to look up. Gabriel was hovering nearby and poking Sam's shoulder with impatience. Sam could barely make out Gabriel's facial features in the dark. But by the tone of his frantic voice, Sam knew that the archangel was in need of something.

“What? What's wrong?” Sam whispered, thinking that maybe someone had found the cabin and they were under attack.

“I'm dying again,” Gabriel nearly moaned, cradling his stomach, “For real, this time!”

“Wha -? Dying?” Sam repeated, worried, “What happened?”

“I don't know,” Gabriel huffed, practically doubled over, “Ugh. My stomach hurts so bad, Sammy. This is it. This is the end of me. Will you take care of Dickie after I'm gone? T – tell him daddy loves him.”

Sam took a large, heavy breath of annoyance as he rolled to sit up. Why did Gabriel have to be so damn dramatic? The dude was probably just hungry or something... Sam had to bend nearly in half in order to get up and avoid hitting his head on the top bunk. Though it was still pretty dark, Sam could see the main parts of Gabriel's face now that the angle was different; his wide eyes, small nose, and pouty lips. And the whole of it made Sam's insides do funny things again.

“You're – you're probably just hungry. Come on,” Sam whispered, trying his best to stay silent for Dean, who was passed out on the top bunk.

Though he was half asleep, Sam stumbled his way toward the kitchen, scratching his messy head and yawning. He didn't know exactly what time it was but moonlight was still shining dimly in the windows. It had to be around three or four in the morning, maybe. Gabriel's footsteps following close behind him along with the tiny pitter-patter of dog paws. Sam glanced down to see Dickie trotting beside them. The dog seemed a little anxious too, whimpering and nudging against Gabriel's legs.

“What? Are you dying, too?” the trickster asked the dog before looking back up at Sam, “Dickster's hungry too, moose. Or he's gotta pee. Or he wants to hump something. I can't tell which. Probably all three.”

Sam sighed as he stalked toward the fridge. He knew that there wasn't any dog food in the cabin because Rufus never kept any animals. In fact, Sam didn't know if there would be any _human_ food here, either. He was hoping that there would at least be a stray can of soup or box of rice in the cabinets. Something nonperishable that could tide Gabriel over until morning. Because Sam sure as hell didn't feel like driving to town this late at night...

As Sam opened the fridge – which was completely empty, save a few bottles of spoiled ketchup and mustard in the door shelf – the light from the inside flooded the kitchen. Sam blinked repeatedly at the harsh light and shut the door as fast as he opened it. In the meantime, Dickie had wandered over to paw at Sam's leg. His whimpering was getting louder and he was prancing in place, seeming unsure of what to do. The sight reminded Sam of what Gabriel was doing earlier; dancing around with urgency.

“What's the matter, boy? Do you have to go?” Sam asked.

Dickie gave a muffled bark, his tail wagging back and forth in a blur. Sam wandered over to the backdoor and opened it, letting Dickie dash outside to sniff around and do his business. Luckily, the dog didn't go very far. He just hiked his leg on some nearby garbage cans and dashed back inside, acting like he didn't want to be left alone. It was the exact same way Gabriel had behaved in the bathroom earlier. Sam smiled to himself. It was amazing how much similarity a dog and an archangel could share...

“ _Sammy_ ,” Gabriel whined, practically throwing a tantrum by the table, “I'm still _dying_ over here!”

“Would you keep it down? Dean's trying to sleep,” Sam snapped in a whisper as he walked over to look in the cabinets, “Geez, stop acting like a two-year-old.”

“Two-year-old? That's a old one. Where did you get it? The 'secondhand insults' store?” Gabriel snipped.

Sam paused his search to turn around and shoot Gabriel the most fed-up glare he could muster. He made sure the trickster could see how close he was to throwing his hands in the air and going back to bed. In the darkened room, Gabriel's eyes softened instantly. His bitchy face shifted into a look of defeat and he threw himself into a chair at the table, sighing loudly.

“I'm sorry, kid,” he said, his deep voice low, “I don't mean to be a dick, it's just – being human is a pain in the ass. And it _sucks_ ass, too. As a matter of fact, being human is like having all the goodness sucked right out of your ass. Painfully.”

Though he wanted to stay mad at Gabriel, Sam could feel a smile spreading on his own face. Did Gabriel just say the words 'I'm sorry'? Did the trickster really just _apologize_ for something? And, boy, did he hit the nail on the head with the whole 'being human' thing.

“It's okay,” Sam said quietly before bringing his sight back to the cabinet.

Nothing in the cabinets seemed very edible. There were a few jars of pickles and canned tomatoes, but all of it looked expired. After shifting around some old boxes, though, Sam found a nearly empty jar of peanut butter. The date on the lid was too faint to read, but it didn't look spoiled at all. Hell, it even smelled pretty good. There wasn't enough in it to satisfy a grown man's hunger, but Sam thought that it might be a nice substitute for _Dickie_. Until tomorrow, at least. Sam glanced back at Gabriel.

“Can I, um, give your dog some peanut butter?” he asked.

Sam didn't want to be rude by taking over responsibility of someone else's dog. But luckily, Gabriel seemed rather entertained by Sam's suggestion.

“Be my guest,” the archangel beamed.

Dickie was already standing next to Sam with his head tilted upward and tail wagging. When Sam lowered the jar into the floor, the dog instantly dove his nose inside, licking and chasing the jar around as he tried to get to the treasure at the bottom. Sam chuckled a little, watching Dickie lick away happily. Deep down, Sammy had always wanted a dog of his own; one to take care of and play with. It was nice to feel – even just for a moment – the unexplainable joy of being around a loyal, playful animal.

“I remember the first time _I_ gave him a jar of peanut butter,” Gabriel reminisced, smiling as he leaned his face against his hand, “He humped the shit out of that thing and then spent the next few days just licking himself. Ah. Good times.”

Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“You keep saying that he humps everything, but I've never seen -”

Sam's sentence drew to a halt as he watched Dickie try to mount the jar in the floor. The dog was chasing the plastic container with his hips, trying to hump it while it rolled around. Sam could feel Gabriel's bright eyes on him, shining with delight.

“You were saying?” the trickster cooed with his eyebrow raised.

Sam sighed in reply, ignoring Gabriel's I-told-you-so face, and returning to his search for food. After raiding the upper cabinets, Sam knelt down to scan the lower ones, opening and shutting the wooden doors at a rapid pace. But there wasn't anything in them. Not even a stray can of coffee. Just as he was about to give up hope, Sam spotted a small container in the cabinet at the end. It was one of those tiny, personal-sized bowls of macaroni and cheese that you just add water to and stick in the microwave. And by some miracle, it hadn't expired yet.

“I hope you like mac and cheese,” Sam mentioned quietly, standing back up to head over to the sink.

He was taking off the plastic covering on the way to remove the cheese packet and fill it with water to the line near the rim. Sam knew the drill. He had made these for himself a few times.

“Mac and cheese? Never tried it,” the trickster replied, wincing and clutching at his stomach again, “Ugh. But at this point, I don't give a shit. Lay it on me, pretty boy.”

Sam's stomach did a weird flip-flop thing again at the sound of Gabriel's nickname. As the man walked the tiny plastic dish over to the microwave, he was also remembering the bathroom incident again; seeing Gabriel's ass in his mind against his will. God, why did Gabriel have to have a nice ass? Why did he have to flaunt his body around and call Sam all those names that didn't mean anything?

“Why do you do that?” Sam blurted, thinking out loud.

“I do a lot of things,” the archangel replied over the hum of the microwave, “You're gonna have to be more specific, sweetheart.”

“ _That_ ,” Sam pointed out, “You're always calling me weird names.”

A smirk flashed on the trickster's lips.

“Oh, shut your cake hole, Sammy-boy,” Gabriel purred, his expression shifting, “You know you like it when I call you 'sweetheart.”

Even in the dark, Sam could see something raising on the archangel's face. His golden eyes were playful and his lips were curved into a devilish grin. It was the look of a playboy who had been caught flirting and was loving every minute of it. And as much as Sam hated it, as much as he wanted _so badly_ to deny it...

Gabriel was right.

The microwave started beeping, making Sam flinch at the sound. The man took a deep breath to try to rid his mind of strange thoughts while he carefully removed the hot container from the microwave. As he was stirring in the powdered cheese with a plastic spoon from a nearby drawer, Sam was trying to convince himself that Gabriel was just messing with him. The dude was _the trickster_ , after all. He wasn't seriously flirting, was he? Gabriel was just trying to wreak havoc on Sam's mind like he always did. That was probably Gabriel's favorite pass-time; screwing with Sam's thoughts and feelings.

Aggravated, Sam walked the small bowl over to the table and placed it in front of Gabriel. Steam was wafting from the hot contents when the archangel leaned over to sniff it. His face melted into a look of relief afterward and his golden eyes flickered toward Sam again.

“Oh, dear sweet daddy above, that smells better than Marilyn Monroe's panties,” he sighed.

For a moment, Sam was about to ask Gabriel how he knew what Marilyn Monroe's panties smelled like, but the man stopped himself. He decided to dismiss the weird comment and pull out a vacant chair to sit at the table instead. He watched Gabriel take his first bite of mac and cheese, feeling secretly proud of the look of pure joy that lit up the archangel's face.

“Holy shit! It _tastes_ better than her panties, too!” Gabriel cried.

Sam rolled his eyes at the statement as the trickster dug into the food. Gabriel was _devouring_ the mac and cheese, practically inhaling every last noodle. Sam watched him scarf it down, feeling like he had stumbled across an impromptu food eating contest. The mac and cheese was gone in under a minute, empty bowl scraped clean. Sam was actually kind of astonished. The trickster really must have been hungry.

After the food was gone, though, Gabriel dropped the spoon on the table, making it clank against the wood. He was staring down at the empty bowl and his expression had shifted into utter seriousness. Sam blinked as he watched Gabriel fiddle with the empty container. Did something just cross the archangel's mind? What was he thinking about that made him look so serious and saddened?

“Sam,” Gabriel mumbled without looking up.

“Yeah?” Sam asked, bracing himself.

“Do you – do you think Cassie is okay?” he whispered, voice housing sincerity.

Sam took another deep breath, his eyebrows scrunching with bewilderment. He never knew that the trickster was capable of _worrying_ about someone else. From what Sam had witnessed in the past, Gabriel was only concerned with his own needs. The trickster only cared about keeping himself entertained and watching out for his own back. Even now, it seemed like he was only coming to the Winchesters to save his own ass... But was it possible that he _did care_ about the apocalypse starting again? Was it possible that he really _worried_ that Michael and Lucifer would try to wear the Winchesters to the prom? Was Gabriel honestly _concerned_ about Cas's safety?

“Um,” Sam uttered lowly, trying to find the right words, “Cas is... He's a pretty tough guy. He can take care of himself. He'll probably be back in the morning.”

Sam was telling the truth. He had a lot of faith in Cas and had no doubt that the angel would be back. Thankfully, Gabriel seemed comforted by Sam's words. His amber eyes finally made their way back to look at Sam's and slowly refilled with playfulness.

“You, uh, wouldn't happen to have anymore peanut butter, would you?” he asked, “'Cause I could sure go for some of that stuff.”

Sam sighed and shook his head. There was barely enough in that jar to feed the dog. Both Sam and Gabriel glanced toward the floor to see where Dickie had gone with it. The dog was by the sofa now, licking around the rim of the container while his hips did a few thrusting motions toward the middle. Sam couldn't decide whether the sight was humorous or flat-out disgusting. It was probably a mix of both.

“That was the last of it,” Sam mumbled, “but, I could try to...”

A thought suddenly popped into Sam's head, making his sentence stop abruptly. Watching Dickie lick at the yellow label of the peanut butter jar made him remember something. A few days ago, while Sam and Dean were hunting down a stupid ghost, they had stopped off at a gas station in town. Sam distinctly remembered getting a candy bar from the store and tossing it into his duffel bag. But he couldn't recall eating it. Was the candy bar still in his duffel bag?

Sam was suddenly getting up from the table without warning, forcing his feet to shuffle toward the living room. He grabbed his bag in the dark and unzipped the top to dive his hand inside in search of the candy bar.

“You could try to what, Tarzan?” Gabriel said from the table, probably wondering what Sam was doing.

A smile flashed on Sam's face as his hand bumped into the crinkly wrapper. He grabbed the candy bar at once, ripping it from the bag to look at it. The yellow and blue label was barely visible in the dark, but Sam knew what it was. His head swiveled back to meet Gabriel's eyes again as he started back into the kitchen.

“Here,” Sam smirked, tossing the candy bar on the table in front of the archangel, “You can have this.”

Gabriel picked up the candy bar at once, letting his golden eyes glance the label while his fingers edged along the yellow wrapper. Sam was shocked at the amount of confusion in Gabriel's expression. It seemed like he had never seen this kind of candy before.

“Butterfinger?” the trickster said out loud, dropping it back on the table, “Sorry, kiddo. I'm not one of those freaks that can eat a straight stick of butter.”

“Stick of butter?” Sam repeated, falling back into his chair with bewilderment, “Gabriel, that's not actual butter. It's a _Butterfinger_.”

“First of all, would you quit calling me Gabriel? Ugh, you sound like my old man. Call me Gabe,” the trickster said, rolling his eyes, “And second, why else would they call it a Butterfinger if it wasn't made of butter, kid?”

“Because it has _peanut butter_ in it, _Gabe_ ,” Sam replied, putting sassy emphasis on the trickster's name, “It's not butter. It's a candy bar.”

The archangel's eyes flashed wide at once, filling with excitement. He instantly picked up the bar again to hold it close to his face and read from the label.

“ _Crispety, crunchety, peanut-buttery_?!” he gasped, glancing back and forth from it to Sam, “Dammit, why don't I ever read the fine print?!”

Sam held down a chuckle as he watched Gabriel scramble to rip open the wrapper. Once the chocolate bar was free, he took a huge crunching bite out of it and chewed it furiously. A dramatic moan of pleasure erupted from Gabriel's mouth as he chewed, causing Sam's lower stomach to tense.

“Oh... my... Dad...” the archangel cried, his eyes rolling back, “Forget every nice thing I ever said about mac and cheese. This – _this_ is the best thing I've ever tasted! Holy Moses, what the hell is this thing made of?! Unicorns and rainbows?! It's like having an orgasm in my mouth! A mouth-gasm! Shit! _It's so damn good_!”

Sam could feel heat bursting across his own face at the sexual references. And the noises Gabriel made while he ate only made it worse. It looked and sounded like Gabriel was having an _actual_ orgasm; his fingers caressing the candy bar so delicately, his head tilting back with ecstasy after every bite, his feet moving around under the table while he swallowed... Sam was sure his own face was bright red by the time Gabriel chomped the last bit of chocolate. The man's heart was pounding behind his ribs for some reason too, as he watched Gabriel lick his own lips.

“Holy shit. That was the best! I – I've gotta have another one of those,” the archangel panted, his honey eyes darting toward Sam, “Please, baby moose, tell me you've got more.”

Sam cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, trying to regain a nonchalant composure, even though he was flustered as hell on the inside.

“Uh, no. Sorry. That was the only one I had,” he answered.

Gabriel's hand jutted out suddenly, taking a handful of the front of Sam's shirt. A large whoosh flew through the man's stomach when he saw the desperation and hopefulness in the archangel's large eyes.

“We've gotta get more! Right now! Come on, let's hijack your brother's wheels and run down to a quick mart or something,” Gabriel suggested, his hand still tugging on Sam's clothes, “There is a distinct lack of Butterfinger in my life, kid! And we need to change that! Please. Please? Please!”

“No, Gabe,” Sam said, his heart practically racing as he reached up to pluck Gabriel's hand off of his clothes, “Not tonight.”

“Uh! But _Sammy_!” the trickster groaned, already settling back into his pouting mode, “I want some now!”

“Too bad. That's the best part of being human,” Sam sighed, getting up from the table to grab the bowl and spoon, “You don't always get what you want.”

As Sam walked toward the trash can, he couldn't help but think how his words were very descriptive of his _own_ life. Sam almost never got what he wanted; a college degree, a beautiful wife, a nice house, steady income. Hell, Sam never even got the dog that he always wanted. For him, life was just a bitch and nothing else... but it was nice to watch someone else have a little happiness in theirs.

When Sam turned back around, Gabriel was snapping his fingers repeatedly at the table. The archangel's eyes were closed as if he was concentrating while he made quiet, desperate snaps. Sam shook his head as he walked back over to him. Was Gabe really trying to 'poof' the candy there? Without his grace?

“That's not gonna work, Gabe,” Sam smirked, “You don't have your grace anymore, remember?”

“Let there be Butterfingers,” the archangel whispered, pointing toward the table.

Of course, nothing appeared on the table. Gabriel was just pointing toward an empty space. After a moment, Sam could tell that reality was finally catching up with the archangel. His hands dropped to his sides and he practically glared at the empty space.

“That shit always works for my dad,” Gabriel huffed.

“That's because your dad is God,” Sam reminded, nudging the archangel's shoulder, “Come on. Time to go back to bed.”

“How am I supposed to go back to sleep when I know that there are Butterfingers out there just waiting to be eaten?” Gabriel retorted, “I mean, even I -”

The trickster's sentence was lost in the sea of his yawn. Sam watched his mouth stretch open and it induced a yawn of his own. They were both yawning for a minute before Sam nudged Gabriel again.

“See? You're tired. Let's go,” Sam said, starting for the living room.

“Fine. I'll go. But I won't like it,” Gabriel grumbled, shoving his way out of the seat.

As Sam led the way toward the couch, he caught sight of Dickie near the fireplace. The dog had fallen asleep with one of his paws stuck inside the jar of peanut butter. Sam smiled down at the sight, enjoying how content the little guy appeared. Dickie had been fed _and_ entertained by the same jar. What more could a dog ask for? Behind Sam, Gabriel plopped himself on the couch with another yawn.

“We're gonna go get more Butterfingers tomorrow, right?” he mumbled, sounding like he was about to drift to sleep already.

“Sure,” Sam answered, starting to walk toward the bunk beds.

Just as the man took a step away, something warm took hold of his fingers. Sam looked down in the dark, feeling his heart pick up speed again. Gabriel had reached up to catch Sam's hand with his own. The archangel's small warm fingers were wrapped around Sam's. Why did the sight – and the sensation – of this make Sam's heart pound against his ribs?

“You're a lifesaver, sweetheart,” Gabriel slurred, his eyes barely staying open, “and I don't mean the lifesaver candy. I mean you actually save lives. And you're a hero. Especially to me, okay? You're like Superman, except you keep your underwear on the inside where it belongs. You're like the sexier version of Superman. You're Sexyman, and you're my hero, okay?"

Sam was sure that everything Gabriel was saying was just sleepy babble. But that didn't stop his cheeks from filling with heat again. Sam carefully tugged his fingers free from Gabe's grasp, secretly enjoying the way the archangel tried to hang on.

“Whatever you say, Gabe,” Sam agreed, “I'll see you in the morning.”

As Sam started to walk away, Gabriel was still rambling behind him.

“Just so you know, I wouldn't mind if you started wearing your underwear on the outside,” the archangel mumbled, his words getting less and less audible, “I mean, unless you wear thongs, in which case that would... that would just look stupid... 'cause...”

Sam smiled as he crawled into the bottom bunk and rolled over to glance toward Gabriel. The archangel was snoring already, filling the room with quiet sounds. For some reason that Sam couldn't explain, he felt really happy in that moment. It was nice listening to Gabe snore and watching him sleep from the darkened distance. It felt good to think that Gabriel couldn't have made it without Sam, and to know the archangel thought of him as a hero.

And, somehow, it also felt good to know that Gabriel secretly admired him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the title of this story suddenly makes sense! :D I do love a good Butterfinger on occasion. It's a bit too crunchy for my taste, but I think Gabriel would absolutely flip his shit if he ever tried one. I know what you're thinking: _"Snailhair, you're crazy! Gabriel is the Candyman. Of course he would know what Butterfingers are. He could have invented Butterfingers, for all we know!"_ Well, you've got me there. But for this story, let's say that when the great Archangel Gabriel fell to Earth to ravage the candy aisles, he missed the Butterfinger section. Sound good? ;) I sincerely hope you all are enjoying the story so far! Thank you so much for reading, commenting, and giving kudos! I love you all so much for your loving support! *hugs and kisses all around* The next chapter will be out soon!  <3


	4. Chapter 4

When Sam woke up for the second time, the cabin was bright and smelled richly of coffee. After adjusting his eyes to the morning sunshine, Sam rolled over on the bottom bunk to look around, wondering where that heavenly aroma had come from. Across the room, Gabriel was still snoring on the couch with his mouth hanging open and golden hair all over his face. The trickster obviously wasn't responsible for filling the cabin with the glorious smell of coffee. The real culprit was sitting at the table behind the couch.

“Mornin' Sammy,” Dean mumbled, tossing a glance toward him, “You should get over here and take a look at this.”

Sam blinked toward his older brother, watching him leaf through a newspaper. He assumed that there must have been a headline in there that pertained to them. After yawning and stretching, Sam did what Dean requested. He rolled out of bed – and stretched _again_ to work out all the kinks in his back and neck – before shuffling toward his brother. There was a brown bag and three plastic cups on the table along with the newspaper. Dean must have went out earlier to get all this stuff. The older brother held up the newspaper, letting the front page stare Sam in the face.

“Multiple bizarre homicides in U.S overnight?” Sam read aloud.

Dean slapped the paper back on the table before reaching for a plastic cup of coffee. Sam could tell he was aggravated by the way he was holding his coffee with a clenched fist.

“I've been praying to Cas all damn morning,” he growled under his breath, taking a quick sip, “and he hasn't answered me yet.”

Sam's mind was still waking up, so he had a bit of difficulty understanding why Dean was so pissed. It took him a second to realize that the newspaper headline correlated with Dean's statement – more specifically, it pertained to _the angels_. Sam sat down at the table with his brother and quickly read through the article. It said that most of the major cities all over the U.S had reported strange homicides during the night, all sharing similar accounts. Witnesses saw flashes of blinding white lights, police found the bodies surrounded by strange 'graffiti wings,' and a dark man in a suit came up in a least twenty reports...

“Raphael,” Sam uttered, blinking back up at Dean, “He's killing angels. Just like Cas said.”

Dean didn't meet eyes with Sam. Instead, the older brother placed a coffee and a plastic container in front of the younger as if he was trying to distract himself. Sam could see that Cas's absence was affecting Dean. Sammy didn't want to think about it either... but what if one of the bodies found with 'graffiti wings' had been wearing a trench coat?

“I brought pancakes,” Dean said, nudging the plastic container, “Eat.”

Sam sighed and tossed the newspaper away. He wanted to comfort Dean in some way, but he didn't know how to phrase it. There was a strong possibility that simply talking about Cas would make Dean feel even worse and Sam didn't want that to happen. So instead of commenting on the danger Cas might be in, Sam just copied his brother's denial and pretended that breakfast was more important. Because he knew that if they didn't stay focused on something else, the worry would eat them alive.

“Did somebody say pancakes?”

Sam spun around in his seat at the sound of Gabriel's voice. The archangel's messy head had popped up over the edge of the couch and he was blinking toward the table with sleepy, excited eyes. Sam's lower stomach tensed again at the mere sight of Gabe's familiar face. Everything that happened the night before returned to his mind in a flash. Dickie humping the jar, Gabriel's witty comments, the _Butterfinger_. It was all running through Sam's head like a pre-episode recap. _Last night, on Two Men and a Dog_...

“Get over here and eat, shorty,” Dean grumbled, shoving another plastic container toward a vacant seat.

Gabriel didn't have to be told twice. He made a noise of giddiness and excitement before stumbling off the couch to race toward the table. Sam watched him come closer, feeling a strange sensation tingling in his chest. Gabriel was still only wearing the orange robe from Rufus's closet. The fabric was rather tight and thin – and it gave the whole room a clear view of Gabe's morning wood smuggled behind the cloth. On the way to the table, Gabriel looked down and saw it for himself. Sam tore his own eyes away at once, looking anywhere else to make sure Gabriel wouldn't catch him staring at it.

“Huh. Where'd _this_ come from?” the archangel mumbled, poking it with his finger, “I must have been dreaming about Butterfingers last night... Oh! That reminds me! Today's Butterfinger day, Sammy-boy!”

Blood rushed to Sam's face as Gabriel stepped close to pat him on the shoulder. Sam was still trying to keep his eyes away from the trickster's boner-bulge. Which was pretty difficult, because the thing was right there next to him, practically shining like a beacon.

“Butterfingers?” Dean repeated, lost, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Just as Sam opened his mouth to inform Dean of Gabriel's sudden obsession with the candy, a large rustle of feathers filled the room –

And Cas suddenly appeared.

The angel was standing near the couch, now, and he looked... _vacant_. His eyes were wide, but there was nothing in them. No feeling, no emotion. His face was very pale too, especially in contrast to the dark splatters of blood on him. His entire outfit and most of his hands were covered in red liquid. He looked like a soldier who had just fought his way through enemy territory and lost every single one of his comrades in the process. Sam's heart plummeted. Now that he thought about it, maybe that was _exactly_ what had happened to the poor guy...

“Cas?” Dean breathed, “Are you okay?”

The angel didn't move. He just stood there, looking like a dazed survivor from 'Saving Private Ryan.' Dean carefully stood up from the table and walked over to him to putt a gentle hand on Cas's shoulder. Sam watched Cas's blue eyes finally flicker up to Dean, where he seemed to slowly come back to himself.

“I tried...” the angel whispered, sounding like he could barely talk, “There were... so many, Dean... I tried, but I couldn't... I couldn't save them.”

“Hey,” Dean said, taking both of Cas's shoulders in his firm grip, “Listen to me. It's not your fault, okay?”

Sam could tell that Dean was trying his best to comfort Cas. None of them had any idea what Cas had been doing, where he had been, or what he had seen. But it didn't matter. Right now, the angel was traumatized and Dean was doing his best to ease Cas's mind. The sight of it made Sam admire his older brother even more. It was nice to see Dean being compassionate.

“But, Dean, I was there,” Cas said, his voice cracking, “I could have... I _should_ have -”

“Stop, Cas. It's not your fault,” Dean interrupted, his tone low, “You didn't kill any of them. Raphael did.”

“What's going on?” Gabriel asked quietly, his voice housing seriousness.

Every eye blinked toward the archangel, who was glancing around with confusion. Sam picked up the newspaper and handed it to Gabriel to let him see the article. While Gabe's golden eyes scanned the page, Dean was carefully guiding Cas toward the table, leading the angel toward a chair and sitting him down. Though he still looked shaken up, Cas obeyed Dean's movements and fell into the seat.

In the meantime, Sam watched Gabriel take in the news of his fallen siblings. He assumed that Gabriel wouldn't be very affected by the situation; that the trickster didn't care about the other angels being killed by one of their own – but Sam was wrong. Gabriel looked more human than ever as he stared down at the page. Genuine concern and emotion was prominent in his features when he finally dropped the paper on the table.

“ _Asshole_ ,” the archangel mumbled under his breath, his eyes darting toward Cas, “Using my grace to start another holocaust. Did he kill them just because they wouldn't join his stupid 'end of the world' rally?”

Everyone was looking at Cas then, waiting to hear the story straight from the horse's mouth. The angel's blue eyes blinked up at Gabriel. He seemed to be still trying to get a hold of his thoughts.

“Yes,” Cas stated, his voice barely audible, “They refused to join his cause... and he slaughtered them because of it. I – I tried my best to keep up with him as he tracked them all down... I tried to save as many as I could... but, he... he was too quick...”

“It's okay, Cas,” Dean repeated quietly, crouching down next to him, “At least you tried. How many angels _are_ following him? Do you know?”

“No, Dean. He was alone last night, but it's possible that he's gained a few allies since then,” Cas answered, “Once he realized that I was tailing him, he came after me and -”

“Whoa, whoa,” Dean interrupted, his hands going up, “He came after _you_? Raphael tried to _kill_ you last night, Cas?!”

Dean's cell phone rang, cutting off Cas from answering the question. Dean was staring at the angel with shock, as if he couldn't believe what he just heard. Sam was pretty surprised, too. Cas was the one who had suggested that they stay hidden. Why didn't he follow his own orders? Only after forcing himself to blink away did Dean reached into his pocket and retrieve his loud phone.

“Don't move,” he snapped, giving Cas a threatening finger.

While Dean stepped away to answer the phone, Sam was left to glance between the angels. Cas had turned back into a stone, barely blinking or breathing while he stared blankly toward the floor. Gabriel – whose bulging crotch was still glowing like a neon sign – finally sat himself down at the table and pulled a container of pancakes close. He shook his head as he opened it and grabbed the syrup.

“All of this drama is making me hungry,” he mumbled, drowning his pancakes in the sticky liquid.

As Sam watched the archangel dig into the island of pancake amidst the lake of syrup, he took a drink from the plastic coffee cup that Dean had given him. The fluid was lukewarm and bitter, but at least it was coffee. Sam stole a glance toward Cas's bloody clothes and hands as he drank, feeling bad. Was there anything he could say to make Cas feel better? It seemed like Dean was always able to comfort Cas better than Sam could. Why was that?

After a moment of chattering quietly into the phone, Dean made his way back toward the table. It was only ten o'clock in the morning and he already looked exhausted. Sam, Gabriel, and Cas all watched him walk back, wondering who he just spoke with.

“That was Bobby,” Dean sighed, rubbing his forehead, “He said they found two more bodies near his house.”

A somber silence rested among the room for a moment as everyone glanced toward the floor. Sam always thought that most of the angels were stuck-up jerks who only helped themselves. But now that so many of them were dying, he found that he actually felt bad. And deep down, he knew that he was feeling this way because they were related to Gabriel and Cas. Those angels were their siblings; their _family_. And Raphael was killing them all. One by one...

“I have to stop this,” Cas suddenly barked, jumping up from the table.

Everyone – including Gabriel – stood up with Cas, not wanting him to go. Dean instantly took hold of the front of the angel's trench coat to prevent him from flying off.

“No, Cas! Stop and think for one damn second,” Dean said, his tone slightly begging, “Do you remember what you said to us last night?”

Cas didn't reply. He only blinked toward Dean with questioning eyes.

“You said that Raphael is trying to smite your ass because he knows you're with us,” Dean reminded, still clinging to Cas's coat, “and he almost got to do it last night. You could be _dead_ right now, Cas! Now, answer me this: What would happen to me and Sam if Raphael killed you, huh? Tell me. _What the hell would I do without you, Cas?_ ”

Sam could hear that Dean's voice was on the verge of cracking and it made him feel terrible. Dean's words were true, though. None of them would be able to take on Raphael without Cas, especially weak little grace-less Gabriel. Cas seemed to take Dean's sentence to heart. His blue eyes lightened, his posture relaxed, and he seemed to be eying Dean with some sort of emotion. Dean took a deep breath but didn't let go of Cas's coat.

“Now, look, I know you want to want to go back out there and save them all,” Dean said, his grip loosening slightly, “but we can't do a damn thing until we have a plan. So, we all need to sit down and figure one out. Me, you, Sam, and blondie. We're gonna work as a _team_ , alright? No more of this 'lone cowboy' shit. Get me?”

“Yes,” Cas answered, his voice quiet.

Dean took a deep breath before he finally released the angel's coat. Thankfully, Cas didn't go anywhere. His feet remained planted on the floor as if Dean had cemented them there. On the other side of the table, Gabriel shifted back toward his container of pancakes – making that annoyingly obvious bulge wobble around behind the orange fabric.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, commander,” the archangel said, taking a quick bite, “but your headquarters is lacking a decent fridge. None of us will last very long without food. I'm practically dying already.”

Sam rolled his eyes. Why did Gabriel have to use the word 'dying' in every other sentence? Why did he always have to play up the dramatics? He was literally talking and eating at the same time. Dean sighed out loud and his face seemed to fill with defeat.

“Shorty's right. We need to stock this place,” he mumbled, glancing around the cabin, “Okay. Here's the first plan. Sam and I are gonna run to town for supplies. Cas, you're gonna stay here and babysit the man-child 'til we get back. ”

“Dean, that's not a very wise plan,” Cas spoke up, his eyes housing worry.

Dean was already handing Sam a coat and reaching for the keys to the Impala. Sam, as always, followed his brother's directions. He quickly tossed on his jacket and stepped over toward the couch to find his shoes. Sam could feel Gabriel's eyes on him the whole time he got dressed, probing him with anxiousness.

“I'm pretty sure Raphael is focused on the angels right now. Sam and I should be fine,” Dean said to Cas.

“ _Should be_?” Gabriel repeated, sounding just as apprehensive as Cas, “Those aren't good words. That means there's a chance this will end badly. I don't like those odds.”

“Look. You two are the ones that need to stay hidden right now. _You_ ,” Dean said, pointing toward Gabriel, “and number one on his hit list. And _you_ ,” he barked, his finger whipping toward Cas, “are number one on his _shit_ list. He wants both of you dead. And Sam and I are just a couple of vessels that need to stay alive until show time. Those odds seem pretty damn good to me.”

Sam stood up from the couch after putting on his shoes and turned around to see Gabriel cross his arms in disagreement. He and Cas both seemed to be against this idea. But Gabe was right. This place was completely empty. If they were going to transform this cabin into a secret lair, then they needed to stock up on supplies.

“Here,” Dean said, digging a cell phone out of his pocket to hand it to Cas, “You can stay in touch with us the whole time. It shouldn't take that long. Maybe two hours, tops.”

Though Cas's eyes were full of apprehension, he hesitantly reached out to retrieve the phone from Dean's hand.

“I want to hold it!” Gabriel exclaimed.

The archangel dashed around the table, making that stupid lump jiggle between his legs – _God, why wouldn't he just go to the bathroom and get rid of that thing?!_ – and yanked the phone out of Cas's hand. His golden eyes flashed up at Sam afterward, looking full of playfulness.

“Your number is in here, right kid?” he asked, his tone mischievous.

“Yeah,” Sam answered, edging toward the door with Dean, “and my computer is over there, if you... want to play on it...”

_My computer is over there_? Why the hell did Sam just say that? The younger Winchester could feel his own face filling up with blood again as he glanced around with surprise. He just offered the trickster permission to play with one of his most cherished possessions while he was gone. _Why_? A quick smile appeared on Gabriel's face.

“Sweet,” he grinned, “Be careful out there, Sammy-boy. Oh! And don't forget the Butterfingers!”

Sam gave a nod as he followed Dean out of the cabin and into the morning light. A strange feeling was swirling around in Sam's stomach when he closed the front door and walked toward the shiny Impala with his brother. Somehow, it felt good to know that Gabriel cared about his safety. And for a reasons he couldn't explain, Sam was kind of excited about bringing Butterfingers back for the trickster.

* * *

What started out as a two hour supply run somehow morphed into an all-day side mission.

At the beginning, the plan was to go to the nearest grocery store, pick up enough food to last a few days, and stop to fill up the gas tank on the way back to the cabin. Dean and Sam wanted to get through it as quickly as possible so that they could get back to Cas and Gabe and start planning their strategy against Raphael. And everything was running smoothly for the first half hour. The Winchesters made it to the store and got the groceries, plus a small bag of dog food for Dickie.

But as they were loading up the Impala, Bobby called again. And this time, he was pretty distraught. Apparently, someone – a demon, by the smell of sulfur in the air – had ransacked his house. The culprit took a large amount of his spell ingredients, a few bottles of his whiskey, and left the place a mess. Bobby took refuge in his safe chamber when he found the devastation and called Dean and Sam for help.

Of course, they told him about all the shit going down with Raphael, Gabriel's grace, and the apocalypse. And they told him that he was more than welcome to stay at Rufus's cabin until all of it blew over. But Bobby said that he didn't want to be 'an added burden on them.' Instead, all the old man asked for was a ride to a friend's house; an escort to a safer place before they tried to deal with the 'Raphael' situation. No matter how much Dean tried to convince Bobby that he wouldn't be a burden and told him to just come to the cabin, the old man wasn't having it. He said he would be happy to help them in anyway that he could, so long as he could stay with a fellow hunter. And the Winchesters didn't have the heart to deny his request.

Needless to say, Cas was pretty pissed when Dean called to break the news to him. Dean explained that Bobby's house was only a few hours away and that it wouldn't take long to escort the old man to a safer place, but Sam was sure that the angels were still upset about it. In fact, Sam _himself_ was pretty upset, too. He didn't like the thought of being separated from the angels for that long. The longer the two halves of their group were apart, the less time they had to devise a plan against Raphael. But even though the trip would eat up a huge chunk of their time, the Winchesters knew they had to do it. For Bobby.

At some point during the ride to South Dakota, Gabriel started sending random texts to Sam's phone. Every so often, a message would pop up saying, ' _Don't forget the Butterfingers, kid_ ,' or ' _Stay safe_.' Sam didn't reply to any of these messages because, frankly, he didn't know how. But after a while, they started to get strange and intriguing. One series of texts said, ' _How do you use the microwave?_ ' ' _Nevermind. I got it._ ' ' _Omg. Why is there lightening inside the box?_ ' ' _Note to self: do not put forks in the microwave._ ' Sam chuckled a bit at that last one, which warranted a strange glance from Dean.

By the time they got to Bobby's house, Gabriel's texts were rolling in at a nice pace. Every few minutes, Sam's phone would ding with another message. A few of his favorites were, ' _Dickie is chasing Cas right now cuz he's trying to throw away the peanut butter jar. Drop the jar, Cassie! Drop the jar!_ ' and ' _Is it possible to build a treehouse out of Butterfingers? We should try it_ ,' and, ' _Mooses moo while moving to the moon. Say it 5x real fast. It's fun!_ ' Bobby and Dean didn't pay much attention to Sam when he stifled a giggle here and there. But Sam was having a pretty good time reading all of Gabe's hilarious messages. 

Bobby made Sam and Dean promise to call him when they parted ways. The Winchesters made sure the old man was safe with the other hunter before they started the trek back to the cabin. By the time they got to the Montana boarder, Gabriel's texts had slowed down quite a bit, probably because the sun was going down and Gabe might have been getting sleepy. The latest one said, _'I beat your highest score on the pinball game. Haha. U R such a loser,'_ and was followed promptly by, ' _I'm just kidding, Moose. U R not a loser. Pls talk to me_.'

It was at this point that Sam realized that he hadn't replied to a single message Gabriel had sent, and he felt terrible. After stealing a glance toward Dean, Sam quickly typed a message that said, ' _We just hit Montana. Got Butterfingers in trunk. See you soon,_ ' before pressing send. He felt bad that his text wasn't funny or anything, but he hoped that it would at least make the archangel feel better to know they were close. The reply message came almost instantly. Sam looked down at his screen to see, ' _YAY! I can smell the chocolatey peanut butter now! Tell Dean to haul ass! I wanna see your big moosie face!_ '

Dean didn't exactly haul ass back to the cabin, but he was driving pretty fast. It was close to eleven o'clock by the time they pulled into the driveway. The cabin windows were glowing with warm light and the sky above was full of stars. Sam was expecting to see Gabriel waiting outside for them, jumping up and down with excitement or tapping his foot with impatience. But he wasn't. Cas was the only one who came outside to greet them when Dean shut off the Impala. Sam got out of the car and helped his brother unload some of the groceries, glancing around.

“Where's Gabriel?” he asked Cas, feeling a little worried.

“He is asleep on the couch,” Cas informed, sounding exhausted.

Dean and Cas lingered outside to talk while Sam carried in some of the groceries. He was met at the door by Dickie, who barked quietly and pranced up and down, happy to see him. Sam smiled as he sat the bags in the floor and knelt down to pet the dog. It was so nice to be greeted with a wet nose and a wagging tail. After saying hello to Dickie, Sam stood up to walk over to the couch.

Gabriel was asleep, just like Cas said. The archangel was on his back with golden hair all over his face and short legs crossed toward the end of the couch. His right hand was resting on his chest – where he was clinging loosely to a cell phone. Sam smiled at the sight, once again admiring how the fireplace accentuated Gabriel's petite features. It wasn't right for a guy to look so damn beautiful. It wasn't right that Gabriel was so damn funny either, or that his dog was so adorable, or that the sight of him could make Sam's stomach do somersaults.

It just wasn't fair that Gabriel had weaseled his way into Sam's heart so easily.

“ _Annoying_ _little prick_ ,” Sam mumbled under his breath, trying to hold down a smile.

Although Sam wanted to see Gabriel's eyes light up when the guy saw the pile of candy they had bought, Sam didn't want to wake him. Gabe simply looked too peaceful to be disturbed. Instead, Sam walked over to grab one of the Butterfingers from a grocery bag. He tip-toed back over to Gabriel, carefully tugged the cell phone out from under his tiny hand, and replaced it with the candy. The archangel's small fingers curled tighter around the Butterfinger as he shifted lazily in his sleep. Sam smiled down at the sight of him clinging to the candy, knowing that Gabriel would be the happiest guy in the world when he woke up.

“See you in the morning, Gabe,” Sam whispered, as he backed away quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Sabriel ever started their own sitcom, I bet it _would_ be called "Two men and a Dog." Or "An Angel, His Dog, and A Moose." Or "Candyman and Sasquatch." Or "Blondie and Antlers." The list goes on and on. lol. ;D What would YOU name a Sabriel sitcom? :) I know it sounds like poor Cas has his hands full in his story when it comes to duty and feels, but he's got Dean and the Winchesters... Mostly Dean... A lot of Dean... ;) As always, if you have any questions, feel free to ask! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! :) The next chapter - in which Sam and Gabriel spend lots of time together - will be out soon!  <3


	5. Chapter 5

“You mean, there's _another_ way to get to the cage _besides_ the horseman's rings?!"

Sam's eyes squinted tighter shut at the sound of his brother's loud tone. Sam was vaguely aware that he was laying on the bottom bunk and that morning light was shining against his closed eyelids. Though his body fought to stay asleep, his mind was now wide wake and actively listening to the conversation taking place nearby.

“I thought you knew, dumbass,” Gabriel's voice sounded as sassy as ever, “Haven't you noticed by now that daddy likes to install trapdoors and loopholes for all his creations? Even purgatory has an escape hatch, idiot.”

“Gabriel, this is vital information that we could use to our advantage,” Cas's voice intruded, swooping in with a dark tone, “Tell us how this trapdoor works.”

“It's not exactly a trapdoor, baby bird. It's more of a portal,” Gabriel's voice again, “Well, now that I think about it, it's more of a spell rather than an actual -”

“Just tell us how it works, dammit!” Dean nearly shouted.

Sam forced his eyes to open and rolled over on the tiny bed. He was too curious to ignore the conversation, now. Through blurry eyes, he could see that Dean, Cas, and Gabriel were huddled at the table behind the couch. Everyone was looking at the archangel, who was huffing in defeat and taking a bite from the candy bar in his hand.

“I don't know, okay?” Gabe seemed to admit, “You have to toss three things onto an altar, say a few words, and then _bam_. Instant cage portal. But I don't know what the three things are. I wasn't paying attention when Dad was giving his 'how to keep Lucifer in time-out' lesson.”

“Maybe Bobby would know,” Sam suggested out loud as he rolled out of bed.

The minute Sam stood up, everyone in the room turned to look at him. Dean and Cas remained indifferent; acting as if he had been standing with them the whole time. But _Gabriel_ , on the other hand, lit up like a Christmas tree. His face brightened instantly as if his favorite person in all the world had just arrived and he nearly jumped out of his seat, golden eyes staring up at Sam with admiration.

“Moose! You're finally out of hibernation! Oh, check it out,” he exclaimed, holding up his candy, “The Butterfinger fairy came last night. Do you want one?”

While Gabriel held out a fresh candy bar to him, Sam couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his lips. He suddenly remembered sliding the Butterfinger under Gabe's palm the night before... and it made him realize that _he_ was the Butterfinger fairy.

“No, thanks,” Sam grinned, shaking his head.

Gabriel's expression tightened with confusion, making Sam notice how stubble had grown on the archangel's chin and cheeks over the past few days.

“What? Really? You _don't_ want an orgasm-inducing stick of awesomeness?” the archangel asked, bewildered, “I mean, I know that you already have one in your pants, but...”

It took Sam a second to figure out the meaning of Gabriel's sentence. At first, he thought the archangel was implying that Sam had a Butterfinger in his pocket or hidden in his underwear... But _no_. The orgasm-inducing stick of awesomeness that Gabriel was talking about was Sam's _dick_. A wave of surprise and embarrassment flooded Sam's system as he casually glanced down at his own crotch. Why would the trickster say something so flattering about Sam's dick? Why would he mention Sam's dick _at all_? And how was Sam supposed to reply to something so vulgar? The smugness on Gabriel's face grew the longer Sam struggled for words...

“Hey, um, could you watch my treasure hoard for a second?” the archangel asked, gesturing to the pile of Butterfingers on the table before scooting out of the chair, “I gotta go take another leak. These human bladders don't hold very much. Thanks, sweetheart.”

Gabriel shot Sam a wink as he dashed toward the bathroom, making the hem of Rufus's orange robe flap against the back of his thick thighs. Sam took a quick breath and looked away from Gabe's backside, once again recalling the sight of the archangel's bare ass in his mind. He attempted to zero his focus on Dean and Cas, desperately trying to ignore the arousing memory of those pale cheeks jiggling around on the bathroom floor. The whole time Gabe and Sam were speaking, Dean and Cas had been talking to each other in hushed whispers at the table. And by the time Gabriel left, the two of them were getting up together. Dean and Sam met eyes and the younger brother could see guilt in the older brother's stare.

“Sammy,” Dean sighed, reaching for his coat, “you're probably gonna hate me for this, but I need you to babysit today.”

Babysit? Did that mean Sam was going to be babysitting Gabriel? _All day long_? Potent excitement rushed through Sam's veins at the thought. Contrary to popular belief, Sam actually liked hanging out with the trickster. Yeah, the guy could be an annoying little shit at times. But lately, Gabe was a fun person to be around, just like the day before when he was sending all those hilarious texts. And getting to hang out with Gabriel all day actually sounded pretty awesome.

But Sam had no intention of letting Dean know this. He didn't want Dean to think that he actually liked the trickster. So once Dean mentioned babysitting, Sam quickly put on his best bitch face, trying very hard to act like it annoyed him even though he was very excited on the inside.

“That... that sucks,” Sam said carefully, purposefully adding bitterness to his tone, “Why do _I_ have to babysit him?”

“If what Gabriel says is true, then Raphael will be attempting to open a portal,” Cas answered, “and if the portal _does_ require specific ingredients, then it is critical for us to retrieve them first in order to stop his progress.”

“If Bobby can find out where they are, Cas and I can pop around to get them. Which leaves you with Gabriel,” Dean explained, “I know it seems like I'm hanging you out to dry by making you stay here with the pip-squeak, Sammy. But he's a distraction that we just can't afford right now. We're on the clock here, man. Can you do me a solid, just this once? I'll buy you some porn or something if you want.”

Sam took a deep breath and glanced away, trying to create the illusion that it really bugged him to have to stay with Gabriel. But he was still happy on the inside. For once, Sam wouldn't have to worry about doing research, or locating ancient artifacts, or trying to read through piles of Latin lore. This time, Sam's only job was to hang out with Gabriel. And it didn't seem like a job at all.

“Fine,” Sam huffed, acting like it was killing him.

“Thanks for taking one for the team, Sam,” Dean said, patting him on the arm, “Cas and I are gonna head over to where Bobby is staying, but I'll keep in touch with you all day. Just hang around the cabin and try to keep shorty alive until we get back. And I'll bring you some porn. You still like busty blondes, right?”

Sam gulped. _Gabriel was blonde_...

“R – right,” Sam mumbled, feeling weird.

“You're the best,” Dean winked, “I'll keep you updated. See you, Sam.”

Sam waved a little as Cas lowered his hand onto Dean's shoulder. The two of them disappeared in an instant, leaving Sam to stand alone in the living room. A strange feeling was still churning in his stomach as he glanced around the empty space. _Did_ Sam have a thing for blondes? Did he really have a preference that he never noticed before?

“Hey, fellas, we've got a situa -”

Gabriel's sentence stopped abruptly when he entered the room to see Sam standing alone. Sam spun around, trying to shake off thoughts of sexual preference. There was some kind of empty bag in Gabe's hand and the orange robe was hanging off of one of his shoulders. Sam's insides did a few more somersaults at the sight of blonde chest hair swirled near Gabriel's open collar bone. His golden eyes eventually found their way to Sam's, looking full of confusion.

“Where'd they go?” he asked.

Sam cleared his throat, finding it difficult to look away from Gabriel's pale exposed shoulder. Ugh, why did he always have to be partly naked? Why couldn't he just stay completely clothed like everybody else?!

“They left to try and find those ingredients,” Sam informed.

A smirk flashed on Gabe's pink lips and he shook his head back and forth. He suddenly resembled a teenage girl that was full of gossip.

“Those two are totally screwing each other,” he grinned.

Sam blinked strangely. Screwing each other? Did Gabriel think that Cas and Dean were a thing? The notion made Sam want to laugh out loud. Sure, Dean and Cas were pretty close. But that didn't mean that they were actually _intimate_ with each other. Dean was too much of a 'man' to ever consider doing something like that with another dude.

“No they're not,” Sam denied, unable to believe it.

“What universe have _you_ been living in?” Gabriel scoffed, “Our brothers are totally doing the horizontal mambo, kid. Oh!” his amber eyes flashed wide instantly, “If they're gone, does – does that mean it's just you and me?”

Sam's stomach fluttered at the sound of excitement in Gabe's voice.

“Y – yeah,” Sam nodded, feeling heat on his own face, “Um, did you say something about a situation?”

The archangel nodded and raised up the empty bag, uncrumpling it to reveal the logo on the front. It was the small bag of dog food that Sam had bought yesterday – only now, it was completely empty. Sam stepped forward to take the crinkled bag from Gabriel, wondering how the hell it all disappeared so fast.

“Dickster ate it all,” Gabe said, his stubbly lips forming a frown, “I found him in a food-coma inside the bag, sleeping like a pig after Thanksgiving dinner.”

“This is the only one I bought,” Sam informed, tossing the empty bag on the table, “Well, I guess I could call Dean and ask him to stop and pick up some more -”

“Whoa, what? Call Dean? Why do that when we can just go get it ourselves?” Gabriel asked.

Sam's eyes instantly narrowed. Gabriel knew damn well that leaving the cabin was risky. Raphael or one of his goons might see the trickster and smite him on the spot. But – oh, God – that pleading look on Gabriel's face was like magic, tugging at Sam's heart just like it did that day at the bus station...

“Oh, come on, Sammy-boy. I've been stuck in this cabin for days! I'm a free spirit, kid. And free spirits need wide open spaces!” he exclaimed, stepping closer to pull on Sam's shirt sleeve, “Please, lil' baby moose? One trip into town is all I'm asking for. It'll be fun! A guy's day out. What do you say?”

Sam's heart was beating fast. He didn't know whether it was because Gabriel was asking for something that was virtually against the rules, or because he could feel the archangel's body heat radiating in front of him, or because the trickster's eyes were so damn golden – so damn _persuasive_. But whatever the reason, Sam could feel his heart pounding away inside his ribcage like a bass drum.

“Only if you get some freakin' clothes on,” he finally breathed.

Gabriel beamed with utter excitement. He made a howl of enthusiasm and danced around in place for a few seconds – making the robe slip even farther down his tiny arm – before dashing back toward the bathroom.

“Hell yeah! I call shotgun!” he sang as he went.

* * *

After Gabriel finally got dressed – into the clothes that he was wearing the day they first picked him up – both he and Sam headed to town in the Impala. Of course, Gabriel was all smiles; happy and laid-back, watching the scenery fly passed his window with excited eyes. But Sam, on the other hand, had a nervous feeling that he couldn't shake off. His heart was still beating at a fast pace and his hands were getting clammy on the steering wheel. Sam wanted to chalk it up to worry. Knowing that Raphael was out there somewhere on the hunt for Gabe was more than enough reason to be fearful. But as strange as it sounded, Sam knew that Raphael wasn't the only reason he was feeling so anxious.

It was also because he and Gabriel were completely alone. Sam wasn't sure why it mattered, but it did. Being alone with Gabriel was doing something to him on a physical level; making him get all sweaty and fogging up his thoughts. Sam could only relate this type of nervousness to one other instance... and that was the feeling he had on his first date with Jessica.

“Ugh. This station sucks. Where's all the good music?” the archangel grumbled, reaching over to play with the radio.

Sam tried to pretend that Gabriel's hand wasn't so close to his own as the Impala rolled to a stop at a red light. They had made it to town and the convenience stores were just a few more blocks away. The man was trying to calm himself down internally,as he stared at the glowing red light hanging above the car. ' _This is not a date. Stop freaking out like you're on a date_ ,' he told himself, ' _You are not gay. You don't have a crush on Gabriel. You're just feeling this way because you haven't gotten laid in over a year. Just relax_.'

Sam continued to be coached by his inner monologue when the light turned green and he pressed the gas pedal again. The Impala started rolling through town at a pretty good speed afterward, headed toward the cluster of stores just up the road. When out of nowhere -

“ _Stop the car_!” Gabriel shouted.

Sam gasped out loud and slammed on the break, making the Impala's tires screech. He roped the steering wheel to the right, causing the car to swerve to a halt on the side of the road. Once they were stopped, Sam instantly scanned the windows to search for a dark man in a suit.

“What?! Is it Raphael?! What happened?!” Sam asked, already reaching for an angel blade.

Gabriel's golden eyes were wide and he was staring through the drivers' side window with his mouth dangling open. He raised his finger to point as a smile flickered on his face.

“It's... It's a candy store,” he said, breathless.

Sam blinked a few times before swiveling his head around to follow Gabriel's pointing finger. Just as the archangel said, there was a candy store just across the street. The big neon sign in the window read ' _Kaitlyn's Sweets and Treats_.' Upon searching the goodies beyond the glass, Sam noticed that it was not _just_ a candy store, but a toy store too. Baby dolls and plastic dinosaurs were set in playful poses next to giant lollipops and cartons of bubblegum. Sam eyed the colorful display for a moment, wondering why the hell it was important.

“So?!” Sam blurted, spinning back around to raise an eyebrow at Gabriel.

“It's – it's a freakin' candy store, kid! And it has _toys_!” the archangel said, as if Sam was the one that was missing something, “Candy _and_ toys!”

Sam was absolutely lost.

“And?” he prompted, waiting to hear a good explanation.

“Oh, come on! That's the coolest thing I've ever seen!” Gabriel said, “We've got to go in there and check it out. I'm sure there's probably a mountain of Butterfingers with a chocolate water slide or something.”

“Whoa, stop,” Sam said, grabbing Gabriel's arm to keep him from getting out, “Raphael is literally hunting you down right now. To try to _kill_ you. And you want to go and play in a candy store?!”

“Oh, hell yes,” Gabe nodded, his golden hair tossing around, “There's bound to be a miniature train running circles around Butterfinger Mountain. Doesn't that sound fun? Come on, Sammy. Weren't you a kid once?”

Sam tried to swallow the hard blockage in his throat before the answer fell out of his mouth.

“No.”

It was the truth. Sam never got to be a real kid. He didn't know what it was like to go into a candy store and pick out something sweet. He never got the chance to go into a toy store either, just to play with the awesome dinosaur display in the window. He never had the courage to ask his father for a train set or beg for candy – because he knew better. Growing up, Sam knew that money was only used for food and gasoline, not toys and candy. His father never had time to stop at candy stores, or playgrounds, or ice cream shops, or even the library. To John Winchester, hunting down the yellow-eyed demon was far more important than tossing around a football or telling bedtime stories.

Sam didn't really know what it was like to be a kid, because he had to grow up fast.

Gabriel seemed to become aware of this too, as the two of them sat staring at each other in the Impala. His golden eyes were tracing Sam's face with a hint of sadness, as if Sam just told him that he had been abused or something. Silence seemed to stretch on between them for a moment – before a mischievous look came over Gabriel's face. He eased back into the seat and shrugged.

“Well, then I guess there's only one thing to do,” he purred, batting his eyelashes.

Sam's eyes narrowed. Oh, no. What was going through the trickster's mind this time?

In a flash, Gabriel reached toward the steering wheel and ripped the keys from the ignition. Sam tried his best to catch the archangel as Gabe slid quickly out of the car, but it was too late. Gabriel was already ducking outside and sprinting across the road with the keys in hand, not bothering to look for cars. Sam gasped and ripped the driver's side door open, watching a van come close to running the archangel over.

“Gabriel!” Sam shouted, dashing after him, “Stop!”

It was no use. Gabriel tossed a smirk back at Sam as he dove into the candy store with the Impala keys in hand. Sam growled under his breath as he chased the trickster down. Why did Gabriel have to act like a child? Didn't he realize that this was dangerous?! Didn't he realize that Raphael could find him?! And kill him?!

Sam burst inside the candy store and instantly scanned the area for a short head of blonde hair. The sweet-scented, colorful atmosphere was pretty shocking to Sam's senses. His mouth watered at the thick smell of candy in the air and his eyes darted around to take in the sight of all the moving toys. A catchy 90's pop song was playing in the room too, making it difficult to hear anything but the music.

“Gabriel?” Sam asked out loud, hoping that the archangel would appear.

But of course, Gabriel didn't come when he was called. His absence left Sam no choice but to look around the store for him. Sam sighed and dashed down the first aisle, still calling Gabriel's name as he went. Everywhere Sam looked, his eyes fell upon some kind of colorful object. Bouncy balls, action figures, jelly beans, toy robots, puzzle sets, red-rope liquorish, stuffed animals, Barbie dolls, gummy bears, matchbox cars, pirate ships, pogo sticks, lollipops – They were everywhere! Everything a kid could ever dream of was right there, surrounding Sam in a wonderland of nostalgia.

Though Sam tried very hard to stay focused on finding Gabriel, he kept getting distracted by all of the cool stuff. The next aisle over was full of glow-in-the-dark stars, superhero costumes, fake guns, and plastic swords. A few kids were there too, playing with a set of kaleidoscopes. Sam gulped as he picked up a little green toy soldier from a nearby bin. A strange feeling was trying to bubble up in his stomach while the catchy song kept playing in his ears. He hated to admit it... but Gabriel was right. Being in this toy-filled, candy-coated store was pretty cool.

“ _Marco._ ”

Sam barely heard the word over the sound of the song playing, but he knew the voice that said it. It was Gabriel and he was close by. But for a second, Sam was confused. Why did the trickster say 'Marco?' A smile carefully snaked its way across Sam's face as he tossed the toy soldier back into the bin. He finally understood what Gabriel was trying to do.

“Polo,” Sam replied, inching his way down the aisle.

The hunter searched his surroundings as he stalked around the store. He was still searching for Gabriel's faded jacket and blonde hair, using his stealth skills to sniff the archangel out. In the meantime, he was still taking in the colorful sight of the colossal walls of toys and candy, astounded at how many things could fit in such a small space.

“ _Marco_ ,” Gabe said again, this time even closer.

“Polo,” Sam smirked, dashing toward the sound.

At some point, Sam began to lose track of time. He forgot what he was even here for or why he didn't want to come inside in the first place. All he knew was that he was having the best time of his life. Sam and Gabriel were chasing each other around a toy store like a couple of five-year-olds and he was loving every second of it. Sam couldn't remember the last time he smiled so much that his cheeks hurt or to the last time he chased someone just for fun. But now, he could _feel_ it. Being with the trickster – being with _Gabriel_ – made Sam feel like a kid all over again...

“ _Marco_ ,” Gabe chuckled for the hundredth time.

The grin on Sam's face couldn't get any wider. He knew that Gabriel was just on the other side of the Barbie aisle, running toward the teddy bears. Sam dashed toward the end, hoping to cut off the trickster before he got away.

“Polo!” Sam shouted as he jumped.

Sam nearly tackled Gabriel's tiny form, knocking him into the teddy bear display in a fit of laughter. Sam's large arms were circled around Gabe's shoulders, holding him tight to keep him from getting away, and they were both leaning into the plush toys; laughing so hard that their faces were red. Gabriel squirmed in Sam's arms to turn around to look him in the eyes. It was the sudden flash of Gabriel's golden stare that made Sam realize that they were incredibly close. Only a small sliver of space separated Sam's face from Gabriel's... and their smiles were ever so slowly slipping away... and they were both leaning forward... as if they were about to...

Sam coughed urgently and unwound his arms from around the tiny trickster to stand up straight and cover his mouth. Heat was burning on his face as he tried to look anywhere but directly at Gabriel. He couldn't believe that they had such an awkwardly personal moment – and in a _toy_ store, none the less. Gabriel seemed to be trying to shake off the almost-kiss too, raking the shaggy blonde hair out of his reddened face.

“You, um, you got me,” he chuckled, holding up the keys.

Sam smiled and nodded as he carefully took the dangling keys. He was trying to come up with something casual to say, something that would distract from the fact that they had just shared a serious – and strangely intimate – moment. But luckily, Gabriel spoke first. He grabbed a stuffed animal from the wall behind them and held it up.

“Hey, do you think Dickie would give up the peanut butter jar for this?” he asked.

Sam finally forced his eyes to look toward the trickster and was met with the sight of a stuffed moose. The large fluffy antlers made another smile flash on Sam's lips. He could almost see it now; Dickie humping the poor thing furiously. Sam reached into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet before nodding toward the checkout.

“Let's find out,” he suggested.

Sam and Gabriel both remained casual as they went to the checkout counter and bought the stuffed moose. The lady at the register was fighting giggles as she handed them the bag – probably because she had watched their entire game of 'Marco Polo.' Sam was glad that the smile was still resting on Gabriel's face as they wandered toward the exit afterward. Even though they weren't running anymore, Sam's heart was still racing, still pounding with adrenaline.

“So,” Gabriel said, gently nudging Sam's side with his elbow, “How does it feel to be a kid, Sammy-boy?”

Sam grinned as he pushed open the door and led the way outside. The two of them were on the sidewalk now, edging their way between two cars.

“I don't know, Gabe. Why don't you tell me?” Sam said, nudging the archangel back.

Sam must have been unaware of his own strength, because when he pushed Gabriel, the archangel nearly fell. Gabe stumbled over and caught himself – on the back end of a very nice, _very expensive_ looking Ferrari. The archangel gasped and giggled a little as he carefully backed away from the classic car. He and Sam were both staring at it with wide eyes, admiring its smooth contours and cherry red paint.

“Oops,” Gabe chuckled, “I hope I didn't -”

“Hey!”

Sam and Gabe's laughter instantly drew to a stop when a large man barreled toward them. By the look on his face and way he was dressed, Sam assumed that the man was the owner of the Ferrari. Gabriel's hands went up in the air and Sam could tell that the trickster had put on his best apologetic face.

“Sorry about that,” the archangel said as the man stomped toward him, “The kid and I were just -”

A fist flew through the air faster than Sam could blink. The Ferrari man had stalked right up to Sam and Gabe and threw a punch – and it landed on the side of Gabriel's face. For a brief space of time, things seemed to be happening in slow motion. Sam watched the guy's fist collide with Gabe's face and saw Gabriel tumble to the sidewalk to cower with shock. His golden eyes were wide and full of actual fear. And the very sight of it caused fire ignite in Sam's chest.

Anger and adrenaline raced through Sam's veins, morphing him into the embodiment of rage. Before Sam knew it, he was throwing punches of his own; shoving the Ferrari man up against his car and beating the shit out of him. For a solid twelve seconds, Sam was blinded with protectiveness, hitting the man as if he was _Raphael_ instead of some random car owner. Sam didn't care whose ass he had to kick. Anyone who laid a finger on Gabriel wouldn't get away with it as long as he was around.

“Whoa! Sammy! Stop!”

It wasn't until Sam felt a tug on his arm that he paused to look back. Gabriel was staring at him with huge amused eyes, trying to yank him off the Ferrari man and pull him toward the street.

“That's enough, kid. I think he learned his lesson,” Gabriel said, trying his best to hold down laughter, “We need to hit the road now, before the cops show up.”

Sam blinked and carefully came out of his rage-fueled stupor. Beneath him, the Ferrari man was holding his bloody nose, ranting and raving about calling the police. A wave of shock washed over Sam as he stumbled away from the mess he made. Holy shit! He just beat the hell out of a complete stranger! _Over Gabriel_!

“Come on!” the archangel demanded, still tugging on Sam's arm, “Move those big hooves!”

Sam didn't object. He and Gabriel ran across the street, barely dodging traffic as the Ferrari man shouted profanities at them. Sam dove into the Impala and shoved the keys in the ignition while Gabriel rounded the hood to jump inside. They were speeding away after that, getting lost in a group of cars heading north. Gabriel was turned backwards in the seat and staring out the back window, clinging to the stuffed moose while he laughed.

“Now _that's_ what I call a hit and run,” he mused.

Gabriel may have been in a joyous mood, but Sam was still full of adrenaline. His hands were clamped to the steering wheel and he was blinking toward the road in a daze. He finally forced himself come to a conclusion about his feelings. No matter how much Sam tried to convince himself that he was just going through a phase, he knew now that he wasn't. After everything that had happened – after being aroused by Gabriel's ass in the bathroom, realizing that he liked all those weird nicknames the trickster gave him, chasing Gabriel around a candy store, being close enough to kiss him, and beating the shit out of a complete stranger for him – there was no way Sam could deny it anymore.

He was in love with Gabriel. And there was no way around it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that I had in mind for the candy/toy store in this chapter was "Lovefool" by the Cardigans. I suppose that any catchy 90s love song would work too, but the lyrics of that one are pretty 'Sabriel' sounding to me. ;) And _of course_ I had to give Dickie another stuffed moose! He has one in every Sabriel story I write. ;) As you can see, Sam is going to be dealing with the realization that he likes Gabriel now. And, as you may have probably guessed, there will be some Raphael angst coming up soon, but I promise to warn you ahead of time. :) Btw, those suggestions you guys had for the Sabriel sitcoms were cracking me up yesterday!! XD omg, I love you all so much. You're so creative and funny! Definitely my kind of people. ;) Thank you so much for brightening my world!  <3 The next chapter will be out soon! <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up: This chapter contains a lot of angst and feels toward the end, but keep reading! Because it does get better. ;) Please enjoy! <3

Dickie raced across the kitchen to dive his nose into the food bowl when Sam started pouring some kibble inside. The dog chomped away hungrily like he hadn't had a meal in days, even though he ate his own weight in dog food that very same morning. Once the bowl was nearly full, Sam tucked the bag closed and made sure to put it on top of the refrigerator, far out of the dog's – and his _owner's_ – reach.

“There,” Sam smirked, kneeling down to pet Dickie's warm fur, “Once you're done with that, come and see me, okay? I've got something else for you.”

Of course, the Jack Russell Terrier didn't reply. Dickie was too busy pigging out to acknowledge that Sam was talking to him. But Sam didn't mind. He was just glad to have the privilege of caring for such a sweet dog. Besides, there were bigger things plaguing Sam at the moment. Like wondering where the hell Dean and Cas were...

And trying to figure out what to do about his feelings for Gabriel.

A tingle raced up Sam's spine. Ugh, even the slightest _thought_ of the trickster made shock waves ripple through Sam's whole body. The man eased over to the kitchen doorway and timidly poked his head into the living room, stealing another glance at Gabriel from a distance. The archangel was still relaxing on the couch, with his feet propped up in the coffee table and Sam's computer resting in his lap.

After retrieving some dog food in town, Sam and Gabriel immediately came back to Rufus's cabin, not wanting to miss Dean and Cas when they returned. And throughout the entire trip back, Sam was feeling more nervous than ever; unable to form proper thoughts, losing his voice whenever Gabriel asked him a question, being fully aware of the slightest touch archangel gave his shoulder... It seemed like everything Gabriel did during the trip back to the cabin was affecting Sam in a million ways.

Dickie was the only one that greeted them at the door when they arrived. Sam texted Dean to ask him how the search was going and if he was okay, but he never texted back. When Sam and Gabriel eventually got settled back in to wait for Dean and Cas, Gabe requested to watch a movie on Sam's laptop. And of course, Sam couldn't say no to him – especially not after he batted those golden eyelashes and made that irresistible face.

“Hey, why can't they both fit on the big floating door?” Gabriel called, his golden eyes never leaving the screen, “I mean, it's simple physics. Just let her lay on top of you, Jack! It's not like she hasn't laid on top of your skinny ass once already.”

Sam briefly glanced toward the computer to see that the movie – Titanic – was nearing the end. Sam wasn't concerned with the movie, though. He was too busy staring at Gabriel. Even from a few feet away, Sam was being affected by every tiny detail of the archangel's physique. Watching the trickster crunch into yet another Butterfinger was doing unholy things to Sam's body, making his stomach constrict into a tangled mess and causing blood to flow toward his crotch in waves. Sam grimaced in the kitchen, caught between confusion and infatuation. Dammit, how could this be happening? How could Sam be feeling all of these emotional – and sexual – urges for another guy? For _Gabriel_?

“Well, don't just bob in the water like a dumbass, Jackie! Go and find something to float on,” Gabriel snapped toward the computer before shouting, “Hey, Sammy-boy? Where'd you go? I thought you were gonna watch this with me.”

Sam gulped, realizing that he was being summoned to the couch. Though he was internally struggling with the question of his own sexuality, Sam tried his best to play it off. He didn't want to give Gabriel the impression that he liked him, even though he did. Because Sam knew there was no way in hell that Gabriel felt the same way. Genuinely loving someone – or loving _anything_ , for that matter – just wasn't in the trickster's DNA... was it?

In an attempt to be casual, Sam cleared his throat and shuffled nonchalantly to the couch. He sat himself down slowly next to Gabriel – making sure to leave a nice open gap between the two of them to reinforce his act – before turning his attention to the screen. By this point in the movie, the lifeboats were coming back for survivors, sifting through the floating corpses and scattered debris in the water. Sam had seen this movie countless times, mostly against his will. Dean watched it every single time it came on TV to – as he so rudely put it – “ _check out the redhead's rack one more time_.” Sam knew that his older brother secretly watched it for the sappy romance too, but he never said anything.

By the look of concentration on Gabriel's slightly-bearded face, Sam could tell that this was the first time the archangel had ever seen it. Gabe was so focused on the action that he was barely paying any attention to the melting Butterfinger in his hand. Sam's eyes flashed between the screen and Gabriel's expression, enjoying how enveloped he seemed to be.

“Why is she singing toward the sky?” Gabe mumbled, scowling a bit, “ _Hello_! Your man is turning into a human Popsicle! Get off the damn door and trade places with him, idiot.”

Sam smiled a little. He knew what Jack's death scene was coming next and imagined that Gabriel would shout profanities at the computer, or start ranting about Rose being a 'dumb broad' or something. But as the sad music started playing and Rose began repeating Jack's name over and over, Sam noticed that Gabriel was gradually beginning to suck on his bottom lip. The man blinked toward the archangel, watching his amber eyes slowly dilate – and _glisten_.

Sam was in absolute awe. Here was the trickster – the same trickster that put Sam and Dean through a ton of shit just to have a laugh – and he was actually getting _emotional_. Over a _movie_. At first, Sam assumed that maybe it was Gabe's current state of humanity that made him react so honestly. But what if it wasn't? What if it was just Gabriel being Gabriel? What if the archangel had always been a sucker for good romance movies? What if he actually understood the indescribable pain of losing someone or the terrible fear of dying?

What if Gabriel could actually love someone?

Dickie suddenly hopped up onto the couch, breaking Sam's stare away from Gabriel. Though Sam was somewhat distracted with the dog, he still caught that Gabriel was turning his head away to reach up to clear his eyes in privacy. Sam pretended he that he didn't notice and turned his attention to the dog climbing up to lick his face.

“You must be ready for your gift, huh?” Sam mentioned, reaching toward the end of the couch to grab the stuffed moose, “Here you go, boy.”

At first, Dickie only sniffed around the plush toy and nudged it with his nose, trying to make sure he was allowed to take it. Sam and Gabriel were both watching when the dog carefully pulled it out of Sam's hands with his teeth. When Dickie jumped into the floor with it – and started molesting the poor moose like a rabid hump machine – Sam stole another glance toward Gabe to make sure he was okay. The archangel was acting as though nothing had ever happened, eyes back to their usual playfulness and lips forming a smirk. He elbowed Sam's side and nodded toward the rape taking place on the floor.

“He's got the right idea,” the archangel winked.

Sam's heart did a sudden whoosh. The right idea? What did Gabriel mean by that? Was he talking about sex? Was he talking about the moose? Was he talking about sex _with_ the moose? Sam didn't get to verbalize any of the questions that suddenly crowded his mind – because Dean and Cas appeared in the living room.

They popped up side-by-side near the fireplace, almost directly in front of the couch. Sam and Gabriel instantly spun forward to take in the sight of them. They both looked fairly normal; clothes and faces in the same condition they had been in that morning, though they did look a bit tired. Dean was carrying an arm full of books – presumably from Bobby's stash – and Cas was carrying some kind of rolled up paper. The room was still for a moment as the four men took in the sight of each other, before Gabriel broke the silence.

“Well, well. Baby bird and freckles finally decided to come home,” he grinned, “Where have you guys been all day?”

“Egypt,” Dean answered glumly, starting for the table behind the couch.

Sam and Gabriel raised questioning eyebrows at each other before closing the laptop and getting up to follow Dean and Cas across the room. Dean slammed down the stack of books on the table and took a deep breath, appearing exhausted. Cas seemed pretty weary too, making it seem like their day had been long and trying. Sam was genuinely curious to know if the two of them had found any ingredients. And, more adamantly, if they had encountered Raphael himself.

“So, what have you got?” Sam asked, hopeful.

Dean sighed and rested his hands against the back of a wooden chair.

“Do you want the good news or the bad news?” he asked, shooting his brother a weary look.

“Give us the good news,” Gabriel spoke first, seeming interested.

Cas glanced toward Dean, who gave a slight nod, before laying the roll of paper on the table. The angel gently unrolled the ancient scroll, revealing what looked like a few pieces of fine darkened hair. Sam stepped closer to inspect the light brown strands for himself. It was a cluster of hairs that looked centuries old, probably preserved in the paper for ages.

“This is the first ingredient,” Cas informed.

“What is it?” Sam asked, curious.

Gabriel reached up to pat Sam on the back, making another wave of tingles run through his body.

“That, my big beautiful moose, is a lock of Eve's hair,” he answered.

Sam gulped, letting his eyes flash between Gabriel and Dean.

“E - Eve? As in, _Adam_ _and Eve_?” he nearly gasped in disbelief.

Dean nodded simply as if he didn't care about the rarity of the item laying before him. Sam's eyes fell back to the few strands on the paper, searching them with awe. The idea that it had been dead for the entire existence of mankind was sort of gross, sure. But it was also a piece of the very first woman on earth, something that had been created by God's own two hands. And Sam was right there, standing in the same room with it...

“Where the hell did you get that?” he asked, still in shock.

“Egypt,” Cas repeated, “Among one of the many tombs of royalty. It was handed down through generations of slaves but was eventually laid to rest with one of the pharaohs.”

Dean took one of the old books and held it up, showing Sam the ancient Latin script on the front cover.

“This book tells us what we need and it runs down the whole ritual in excruciatingly fine detail,” he grumbled, “Eve's hair is the first ingredient. The second is the skull of the first-born lamb that Abel sacrificed to God. And the third is a piece of the -”

“The forbidden fruit,” Gabriel finished, taking a breath, “Now I remember. You've gotta burn all this crap on an alter and say the stupid 'open sesame' phrase. You remember how it goes, don't you Cassie?”

Cas blinked toward his angelic brother with bewilderment.

“No, Gabriel. I was not in court with the archangels when this spell was being created,” he hummed lowly, his voice housing a twinge of bitterness, “but it doesn't matter. Our only goal is to claim the ingredients before Raphael can obtain them.”

“Well, we've got one down,” Gabriel smirked, gesturing to the carefully preserved hair on the table, “Only two more to go.”

“Yeah, that's where the bad news comes in,” Dean sighed, rubbing his forehead, “The lamb's skull is actually not far from here. Bobby said that Crowley sold it to a guy in Columbia Falls a few years ago, and the guy hung it on the wall in his bar... and Raphael is on his way to the bar as we speak.”

Sam didn't miss that Gabriel stiffened beside him. All playfulness vanished from the archangel's face in an instant. His honey eyes were wide and full of attention, making him look deadly serious.

“Raph is here?” he said, “Then, what are we waiting for? Let's go get him.”

“Go get him?” Sam repeated, lost.

“Yeah! That bastard's got my grace and I want it back,” Gabriel answered, “If we cut him off at the bar, then -”

“No,” Cas interrupted, turning to give Gabe a stern look, “We are not going anywhere near the bar. Especially not you.”

Gabriel shot a glare toward his brother.

“Excuse me, _Asstiel_ , but who the hell put _you_ in charge?” he snapped.

Sam gulped. There was actual anger in Gabriel's tone, more than Sam had ever heard before. Getting his grace back obviously meant a lot to Gabe. As the two angels stood glaring at each other, Dean broke the tension with another loud sigh.

“Look. If we go to the bar and Raphael sees us, he'll figure out that we're staying close by. Which is bad for me and Sam,” he said carefully, “I know you want your stupid grace back, Gabriel, but going after him now will only get you killed. Cas and I have talked this out. It would be easier for everyone if we just let Raphael take the damn skull. We already have a piece that he needs, so it's not like he could do the spell if he wanted to.”

“So, we're just going to _sit_ here? And do _nothing_?” Gabriel spat, outraged.

“Pretty much,” Dean said, glaring back, “We don't have a lot of options right now. Raphael could kill us all with the snap of his fingers. We should let him go this time and live to fight another day.”

After a few solid moments of glaring at Dean and Cas, Gabriel finally huffed a breath of aggravation. The archangel shook his head before reaching passed Sam to grab another Butterfinger. He ripped the candy bar from the table and stomped away from the group without another word, acting like a teenager, mad at his parents. Sam watched Gabe plop himself on the couch, feeling terrible. The man didn't like it when the trickster's playfulness was gone. Was there something Sam could do or say to make Gabriel feel better?

“I'm going to start the search for the fruit in northern Asia, Dean,” Cas said, turning toward him.

“What? By yourself? You could get killed, Cas. We're supposed to be using the buddy system, remember?” Dean nearly growled.

“Yes, I'm aware of that. But you need rest,” the angel pointed out, “and as long as Raphael is preoccupied with the skull, I should have a safe passage.”

Dean seemed overly hesitant to let Cas go back out on his own. And for a brief moment, as Dean and Cas stared so powerfully toward one another, Sam was almost convinced that what Gabriel said about them was true – that Dean and Cas really were more than just friends...

“Alright, fine. Here,” Dean said, pulling out a map from one of the books, “Show me where you're gonna be.”

Sam glanced back and Dean and Cas, making sure they were lost in their own conversation, before easing over toward the couch. Gabriel had laid down and curled himself toward the back of the sofa in order to glare at the cushions. He was nibbling angrily on his Butterfinger too, behaving in a way that Sam could only describe as sulky pouting. The sight was rather pitiful and it tugged at Sam's heart.

Hoping to at least get a smile from Gabe, Sam grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and tossed it over the archangel. Gabriel shifted a bit and raised his eyes to look at Sam, probably wondering why the man was tucking him in. After Gabe looked nice and cozy, Sam sat himself on the edge of the coffee table and leaned forward to whisper.

“Rose made it to New York, you know,” he said quietly, “and she had the blue diamond in her pocket the whole time.”

Gabriel's golden eyes widened slightly as he blinked toward Sam. At first, it seemed like he wasn't interested in hearing about the end of Titanic. But the archangel eventually rolled over to look at Sam properly, still clutching his half-eaten Butterfinger.

“But Jack died,” Gabe mumbled, still clinging to bitterness.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, “but Rose did everything they talked about doing. She flew in an airplane and rode a horse on the beach.”

“With one leg on each side?” Gabe asked as a smile played on his lips.

Sam grinned. He was so glad to see the happiness lighting up Gabriel's pretty face again.

“Yep. One leg on each side,” he replied. Sam lowered his voice considerably before adding, “Listen, Gabe. I'm – I'm sorry that we can't get your grace back right now. And, I don't know if it means anything to you, but, um... I think you're pretty cool whether you have grace or not.”

Sam's heart was racing again. He could feel it pounding in his ribcage as if he had just confessed a secret or something. Gabriel's smile grew, making him look even more beautiful than before. His small hand reached out to clutch Sam's knee and Sam could somehow feel the touch in every part of his body.

“Thanks, kid,” the archangel smirked, “that... that actually means _everything_ to me.”

Sam searched Gabriel's face, looking for the slightest hint of dishonesty. But there wasn't any. Gabriel truly meant what he said. Sam's approval really did mean everything to him...

“Goodnight, Gabriel,” Sam forced out, carefully shifting his knee out from under the archangel's hand.

“Goodnight, baby moose,” the archangel called as Sam made his way toward the bunk beds, “I hope you have good dreams.”

Sam grinned and stole a glance back at Gabe, taking in the sight of him snuggled up warmly on the couch one last time before venturing to bed himself. He wanted so badly to confess his feelings; to tell Gabriel how he really felt. But he was still too chicken to do it. Sam hoped that by morning he could work up the courage to say it out loud...

* * *

The sudden roar of the Impala's engine startled Sam awake.

The cabin was almost completely dark, save the shine of headlights in the windows. Sam blinked toward the light for a second, wondering why Dean had started up the car and turned the headlights on. It wasn't until the sound of the engine started fading away and the lights moved away from the cabin windows that Sam realized the car was leaving. He assumed that Dean was going to get food or meet Cas or something... until he heard Dean's voice directly overhead.

“ _What the hell_?!” the older brother hissed from the top bunk.

Sam instantly bolted to sit up – which caused him to hit his head on the top bunk – before groaning and rolling out of bed. Dean was already scrambling out of the bed above him, tossing back the sheet to jump to the floor. Although Dean ran toward the front door, Sam's first instinct was to check the couch and make sure Gabriel was okay. Dean ducked outside and Sam dashed over to the couch to toss back the blanket -

But Gabriel was gone.

Sam could hear Dean shouting in the driveway, cursing at the thief for taking his car. In the meantime, Sam was freaking out. Where was Gabriel?! Did someone kidnap him?! Did Raphael get to him?! Did he _kill_ him?! Sam searched the surrounding area for clues with his blurry eyes, hoping that something could tell him what had happened to Gabriel. He started with the couch and moved on to the table – where a scrap of paper caught his eye. He noticed that the ancient scroll containing Eve's hair was gone and that a note was left in its place. Sam ripped the paper off the table and searched the handwritten note to read -

_Went to get grace. BRB._

An actual gasp fled Sam's lips. His sleepy mind had finally put two and two together. Gabriel hadn't been kidnapped! The trickster had stolen the freakin' Impala! And Eve's hair! _And he was going after Raphael_! Sam's heart began pounding with fear, realizing what Gabriel was planning to do. Dean was stomping back into the cabin when Sam dashed to grab his shoes and jacket. He couldn't let Gabriel do this! He couldn't let Gabe get himself killed!

“Cas!” Dean shouted toward the ceiling, “Get your ass back to the cabin! Right now! Sam? What the hell are you doing?”

“Gabriel took the lock of Eve's hair,” Sam said, racing to his duffel bag to grab the angel blade from inside, “and he's gonna try to trade it to Raphael for his grace!”

“ _What_?! That stupid son of a bitch is gonna get himself killed!” Dean spat.

“I know! I've gotta stop it!” Sam said, running passed his brother.

Dean tried to grab Sam's jacket as the younger brother ran by, but Sam yanked himself free. Sam's mind was only set on one goal right now, and that was to stop Raphael from harming Gabriel. And Sam was going to do it with or without Dean's help. Once outside, the younger brother dove into Rufus's old pick-up truck and ripped the keys down from the sun visor. Dean was running up to the truck as Sam tried to start the engine, shouting the whole time.

“Get out of the truck, Sam! Don't you dare try to chase that dumb bastard! Do you know what Raphael will do to you?! Get out, Sam! Get -”

Luckily, an not a moment too soon, the old pick-up truck growled to life, cutting off Dean's frantic voice with the sound of the gurgling motor. Sam knew what he was doing was risky and he knew that Dean was just doing his best to stop his little brother from walking into danger. But Sam loved Gabriel too much to just stand by and let him get himself killed.

“I have to do this, Dean!” Sam shouted out the window as he pulled away.

In the rear view mirror, Sam watched Dean chase the truck for a minute or so. The guy was still shouting Sam's name and begging him to stop. But Sam couldn't. He was being fueled by fear and emotion, running on instinct alone. Come hell or high water, he was going to make sure Gabriel stayed alive.

Sam pressed gas pedal against the floor board as soon as the truck hit pavement. He knew that Gabriel was heading for the bar in Columbia Falls and it was only fifteen minutes away. Sam figured that if he drove fast enough, he could catch Gabriel before the archangel even made it into town. But the longer Sam drove, the more dread filled his heart. What if he was too late? What if he got there and Gabriel was already dead? What if Sam never got to see that beautiful, child-like spark in those golden eyes again? Sam was on the edge of his seat for the entire trip, hoping and praying that his fears wouldn't come true.

As he tried to fight off terrible thoughts from his mind, Sam finally made it into Columbia Falls. He spun the old pick-up truck toward the south side of town, knowing that the bar was at the end of the longest street. Once the bar was in his direct line of vision, Sam could see the glow of a fire just ahead. Thick clouds of dark smoke were bellowing toward the night sky from the bar, where the whole place was on fire. Flames had engulfed the entire building, broken out all the windows and chased away all the patrons. Sam's heart fluttered at the sight of the Impala parked in front of the bar. Gabriel was here! Oh, shit. Was he inside the burning building?!

Once the truck was close enough to the bar, Sam grabbed his angel blade and jumped out. The Impala was vacant of course, and there was no sign of anyone else around. Sam began calling Gabriel's name as he ran close to one of the bar's windows. The heat from the fire was intense, too hot for Sam to try to battle. The man could hear liquor bottles exploding inside, adding destructive sound to the already heart wrenching sight. Sam knew that there was no way to get inside from the front, so he quickly rounded the building, hoping to gain access from the back. But once he lifted his eyes to look around the side of the bar, his feet stopped in their tracks.

Gabriel and Raphael were standing a few yards in front of him. They were facing each other in the alley, both armed with angel blades and moving closer to one another. Sam only caught a glimpse of their interaction because he was too busy dodging flames and running toward them. But he did manage to catch the shimmer of a chrome angel blade against the fire light, glistening as it flew through the air. Before Sam knew it, Gabriel was crumbling to the ground, howling with pain and clutching his stomach.

Raw emotion gave Sam the boost he needed. He leaped over Gabriel's whimpering form and pointed his own angel blade at Raphael, crouching defensively in front of the trickster. Sam could see that Raphael had already claimed both ingredients. The ancient scroll and the lamb's skull were already in the bend of his arm, but Sam didn't care. All he cared about in that moment was making sure Gabriel stayed alive.

“Winchester,” Raphael hummed, over the sound of the fire that raged next to them, “It's good to see that you're still alive. When I raise Lucifer, he will be pleased to learn that his vessel has remained unharmed.”

“You need to leave,” Sam warned, gripping his weapon tight.

Raphael's smirk faded as his dark eyes gleamed in the orange light. He looked powerful – so damn _powerful_ – standing there with his blade pointed toward Sam's heart. The man was honestly intimidated by the look of pure authority in the archangel's face. The sheer might of all heaven was standing before Sam and he had just told it to leave...

“Step aside,” Raphael barked, “I have unfinished business with my brother.”

“No,” Sam refused, inching closer to Raphael, “Either you leave now or I kill you. Otherwise, you'll have to kill me. I'm not letting you touch Gabriel again.”

Though they were honest and true, Sam was kind of surprised by his own words. Not many people would look an archangel in the eye and dare it to smite them. The glare on Raphael's face tightened. Sam could feel his own heart hammering against his ribs. He was still deathly afraid that Raphael would raise his hand and snap his fingers together; that Raphael would kill Gabriel before Sam could stop him. But by some miracle, the archangel backed away. He still had a bloody angel blade in hand and was glaring at Sam with full force. But he actually did as Sam said.

“This isn't over, Sam,” the dark man warned, tilting his head down, “I'll be back for you all.”

Raphael disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving only the destruction and Gabriel's wounds as proof that he was even there at all. Sam flinched at the sound of another small explosion before he spun and dropped to his knees to inspect Gabriel. The archangel was curled up on one side and blood had pooled around him on the ground. He was trembling like a small animal and cradling his own stomach with quivering arms. But his bright golden eyes were staring up at Sam in awe.

“S – Sammy,” he croaked as blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, “You – you're here!”

Sam gulped uneasily. Shit. Gabriel's wound was pretty severe. It looked like Raphael had nearly cut Gabriel in half, slashed open most of his internal organs. How was Gabe ever going to survive this? Another bottle exploded in the bar, spraying the ground near them with fire. Knowing that they needed to move away from the building, Sam carefully snaked his arms under Gabriel's petite form and scooped him up into his arms. Gabriel groaned out loud and clung to Sam's neck with his free arm as Sam quickly raced to a nearby dumpster. His heart was still pounding the whole time, pulsing adrenaline through his veins. How was he going to keep Gabriel alive? How much time did he have left?

Sam gingerly propped Gabriel up behind the dumpster, making sure his head was elevated so that he could still breathe. The archangel was holding down whimpers and panting, staring down at his own injury with shock.

“Sh – shit, that's bad,” Gabe breathed, “I – I'm such an idiot... I should have... never left the damn cabin... Castiel will... will never forgive me.”

“Cas!” Sam suddenly shouted, remembering that the angel could heal any wound with a single touch, “Cas! Gabriel is hurt! Please! Help us!”

Sam knew that Cas had a compassionate heart and assumed that it would only take the angel a few seconds to show up – if he wasn't too pissed at Gabriel, that is. In the meantime, Sam slipped off his jacket and balled it up to press it against Gabriel's opened wound. The archangel grimaced at the pressure but allowed Sam to help. Sam could tell that his own hands were trembling almost as much as Gabriel's. The man's eyes snapped toward the sky again. Ugh, what was taking Cas so long?! His brother was dying! Didn't he care?!

“Sam?” Gabriel asked.

Sam's eyes flashed toward Gabriel's at once, meeting his stare with urgency.

“Yeah? What is it? What do you need?” Sam asked quickly, ready and willing to help in any way he could.

Gabriel's hand, wet and sticky with blood, crawled its way over to grab onto Sam's shirt. The archangel was clinging to it and blinking up at Sam with wide honey eyes as red liquid continued to run down his chin.

“I – I know why Jack didn't get on the floating door, now,” Gabriel coughed, his voice weak, “It's because he wanted Rose to live... he didn't mind staying in the water for her... he didn't mind dying for her... and I don't mind dying for you...”

Sam swallowed hard. Why the hell did Gabriel want to talk about Titanic right now?! Why did he want to bring up such sad things while he lay bleeding to death?!

“You shouldn't talk right now, Gabe. You need to save your energy,” Sam nearly begged.

“No, listen, kid,” he argued, barely able to breathe, “you've gotta know something, alright? I've gotta... gotta tell you something, before it's too late... kinda like a... deathbed confession...”

Moisture was rising up in Sam's eyes faster than he could blink it away. His heart was practically throbbing as he watched Gabriel stare up at him with a meaningful expression. Warm blood was still flowing over Sam's hands as he held his jacket to the archangel's stomach, but he remained silent, listening to whatever words Gabriel needed to say. Gabe kept tugging on Sam's shirt as he continued.

“I'm sorry for... killing your brother all those times,” he panted, breath fogging in the night air, “and I – I'm sorry for that whole... TV thing... turning you into a talking car... and making you do that herpes commercial... I just did all that stuff to... to play with you, because... because I'm kind of in love with your big giant ass...”

A warm tear ran down the side of Sam's face as his jaw slowly fell open. Gabriel _loved_ him? The affection actually ran both ways? Gabriel actually shared the same deep personal feelings that Sam did? The archangel gasped a bit, trying to suck in another breath as he tugged on Sam's shirt a little harder.

“I mean it, kid. If I... ever got the chance to... do it all over again, I would m – make sure... that you and I got to spend more time together, just... just goofing off. There's nothing I love more than hearing you laugh... and seeing you smile... and watching you forget about all the... bullshit you've been through in your sad, short little life... I'm halo over heels for you, S – Sammy-boy... I just wish I had told you sooner.”

Sam was practically on the verge of sobbing. He had no idea that Gabriel cared so much about him. And it wasn't fair that Gabe was laying here dying before they even got a chance to act on their feelings. Sam's heart pounded as he searched Gabriel's pale lovely face.

“Look, sweetheart,” Gabe said, his voice low, “I know this is gonna sound weird to you... but could I... Could I kiss you?... Just one time?... Just to see what it tastes like?”

Sam's heart fluttered again. If all Gabe wanted was a kiss, then by God, Sam was going to give him one. Tears were still running down Sam's face in waves as the man carefully let go of the jacket on Gabriel's stomach. He brought both hands up to gently clutch the archangel's precious face before lowering his own mouth to Gabriel's.

Sparks ignited along Sam's entire spine when their lips collided together. Sam kissed Gabe with as much passion as he could muster, pressing in firmly and humming from the back of his throat. Their lips eventually parted, allowing their tongues to finally meet. The salty taste of tears and the metallic flavor of blood was mixing in with their kiss, but Sam didn't mind. He just cradled Gabriel's soft head even closer and kissed him even deeper. And Gabriel seemed to be enjoying it, too. His hand had released the front of Sam's shirt and found it's way into the man's lengthy hair, where he held on for dear life.

Sam eventually pulled back just enough to let Gabriel breathe again. Their faces remained close together in the semi-dark and Sam could see the utter contentment resting on Gabe's pretty face.

“Wow,” the archangel sighed, curling his fingers in Sam's hair, “That – that was totally worth dying for.”

A sad chuckle fell out of Sam's mouth as he brushed some of the golden hair out of Gabriel's face. While he agreed with the archangel's statement, Sam still didn't want him to die. It was too soon for them to part ways, just like for Jack and Rose. A few simple days just wasn't enough time. They didn't have enough conversations, or share enough laughs, or eat enough Butterfingers. They just didn't get enough time _together_.

A firm hand suddenly clutched Sam's shoulder.

The man tightened his grip on Gabriel and flashed a glance behind him, fearing that Raphael had returned. But it was only Cas. The angel was wearing his usual stone-face, appearing indifferent to Gabriel's current condition as he carefully moved Sam out of the way. Without a word, Cas reached down to remove Sam's bloody jacket and place his hand over Gabriel's wound. A bright light flashed under the angel's palm, causing Sam to shield his eyes.

Within seconds, Gabriel's stomach was completely healed, skin smooth and back to normal underneath his shredded shirt. Sam stared at the swirls of blonde hair trailing from the archangel's navel down into his blood stained pants, feeling a strange mixture of relief and amazement. Gabriel was going to live! Sam's prayers had literally been answered! The archangel seemed just as shocked as Sam. His golden eyes were wide as he reached down to feel along his own flat stomach. After Cas was finished healing his brother, the angel stood back up to glare at Gabriel from above. His mouth was set in a hard line and his blue eyes were narrowed into slits.

“Dean is going to be very upset,” Cas predicted in a harsh tone.

Sam gulped. Oh, shit. Cas was right. Dean was going to be pissed beyond words. Gabriel and Sam met eyes – and almost instantly looked away again. Sam could feel heat beginning to burn on his own face from their brief glance. Gabriel had just confessed his love for Sam, out of fear of dying. And Sam had sort of stated his own love by expressing it with a kiss. The two of them were fully aware of the feelings they had for each other...

And Sam could tell that, from here on out, things were going to be very different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I'm sorry for the dramatic feels of this chapter. But I figured that Gabriel would only admit his feelings if pushed to the very edge. 2) I am also sorry if I totally ruined the movie "Titanic" for you. As I stated in my previous AN for this chapter, I rewatched the movie when I was first writing this and realized that Sam reminds me of Rose, Gabe reminds me of Jack, and Cal reminds me of Lucifer. It's funny, during the scene where Rose says, “ _I'd rather be his whore than your wife_ ,” I was picturing Sam saying, “ _I'd rather be his moose than your vessel_ ,” and then spitting in Lucifer's face and running away. :) (Sorry if that offended those of you who may ship Samifer on the side. But I'm a die-hard Sabriel fan, through and through.) ;) and 3) Before you ask, yes. Cas _did_ see that kiss. But whether or not he tells Dean is something you'll have to wait until the next chapter for. hehe. ;) 
> 
> And, in case you're wondering what happened with **Destiel** in this chapter: Dean and Cas got the spell book from Bobby and found out what/where the ingredients are. Cas tells Dean that Eve's hair is probably in Egypt, so the two travel there to search among the graves, Tomb Raider style. ;) When they finally find the scroll of Eve's hair, Dean accidently bumps into one of the walls and starts a cave in. Cas flies Dean out of the tomb, where the man lands in the desert sand alone. Dean realizes that Cas is buried under the rubble of the tomb in front of him and worries that Cas might be dead. But, of course, our angel friend pops up next to Dean a few moments later unharmed. But Dean - having felt the shock and fear of thinking that Cas was actually dead - lunges forward and kisses Cas without a second thought. The angel is rightfully confused, the man is clearly flustered and embarrassed, and Dean makes Cas swear not to tell anyone what happened in Egypt and to just forget about it. Though he is confused (and secretly enjoyed the kiss), Cas agrees and flies them back to the cabin, where the events from this chapter take place.... That's right. Dean kissed Cas long before Sam kissed Gabriel. But no one knows it but Cas, right now. ;) I'll keep you updated on the full story as it goes along. (In case you care to know. lol.) Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I love you all!  <3 the next chapter will be out soon! :)


	7. Chapter 7

After healing Gabriel, Cas vanished from behind the dumpster. The angel's sudden absence left Sam and Gabriel to glance around with worry and wonder where went. Sam could tell that he and Gabriel were both avoiding each others' stare while they looked around, both too embarrassed to even meet eyes. Heat was still burning on Sam's face, remembering how much unyielding effort he put into that kiss. God, he practically shoved his tongue down Gabriel's throat. He couldn't possibly look at the archangel the same way after that. That one single kiss meant too much... and had probably changed everything about their relationship.

Cas reappeared only a few seconds later – with Dean at his side. The look of pure rage on Dean's face caused Sam to physically shrink away from him on the ground. Oh, _shit_. He looked so freaking _pissed_. Was he pissed about Gabriel losing Eve's hair? Did he know that Sam and Gabe had kissed each other? Was Dean going to finish what Raphael had started? Was he going to kill Gabriel?

With his glower set firmly on the trickster, Dean reached down and grabbed Gabriel's tiny arm. He ripped the archangel from the ground in a single yank and started marching him toward the street. Sam instantly scrambled to his feet in order to follow them, not wanting Dean to hurt Gabriel. He desperately wished to know if Dean knew about the kiss or not. Did Cas tell him about it? Did Cas even see it for himself?

Sam glanced toward the blue-eyed angel beside him as they both rounded the burning building to follow Dean toward the Impala. Cas's face was void of emotion as always, making it difficult to know exactly what he had witnessed. Did Cas see the kiss?! If he did see it, did he tell Dean about it? What if Cas _didn't_ see it? How was Sam supposed to ask him about it without giving it away?!

Dean shoved the newly-repaired archangel into the backseat and slammed the door behind him. His fiery eyes flashed toward Sam as he stomped toward the driver's side.

“Get in the damn car,” Dean barked, pointing a stern finger at his brother.

Sam, of course, did what his brother commanded. His trembling hand fumbled on the door handle, but he opened it and climbed inside to sit next to Gabriel. His ass barely had time to touch the seat when Dean slammed on the gas and spun out, making the tires squeal. Everyone – even Cas in the front seat – held onto the inside of the car, clinging to anything to keep from falling over with Dean's rage-filled driving. Sam could see Dean glaring at Gabriel through the rear view mirror, barely watching where he was going.

“You stupid, self-absorbed, thieving little _bastard of a prick_!” Dean howled, finally finding his voice, “If we didn't need to keep your dumb ass alive, I would be _killing you_ right now! _Repeatedly_!”

Sam stole a glance toward Gabriel beside him. The archangel actually seemed ashamed. His head was lowered and his blonde hair was covering a good bit of his face. He was playing with his own hands in his lap too, trying to rub away the dried blood. But Sam could tell – just from the few glances that he and Gabe shared – that shame wasn't the only emotion Gabriel was feeling. An awkward air had gathered between the two of them. It seemed like Gabriel was also worried if Dean knew about their kiss or not. After quietly clearing his throat, the archangel slowly brought his eyes to the rear view mirror.

“W – why?” the trickster squeaked, sounding as innocent as a child.

The car swerved violently on the road when Dean briefly spun around in the seat to shoot a look of angered disbelief at Gabriel. Sam cringed and held on tighter to the roof of the car, silently praying that Dean wouldn't wreck the Impala.

“Why?! _Why_?!” Dean shouted, seething toward the rear view mirror again, “Raphael has the one thing we didn't want him to have! You just handed that son of a bitch our only chance of winning! Literally handed it to him! _And you stole my freakin' car to do it_! You complete and utter bastard! What part of 'don't leave the cabin' did you not get?! What the hell were you trying to do, huh?! Tell me!”

“I -”

“ _I don't want to hear it_!” Dean interrupted, tossing a hand in the air, “I don't even want to look at your stupid ugly face right now! Look away, dammit! Look away!”

Gabriel huffed a breath and turned his head toward the window, raising his hands in surrender. Sam glanced between the two of them, realizing what Gabriel had just done. Gabe asked Dean why he was angry and Dean never said one word about a kiss. He never mentioned killing Gabriel for making out with his little brother. In fact, it seemed like Dean was oblivious to the whole thing. Sam looked toward Cas in the front seat, eying his expressionless features and flat blue eyes. If Cas _did_ know about it, he hadn't told Dean. And Sam was overwhelmingly grateful...

Dean mumbled a few more profanities and insults during the trip back to the cabin. But luckily, he retained enough control to get everyone there safely. Sam and Gabriel were playing tag with their eyes the whole time too, still too hesitant to look fully at each other. Sam's stomach tensed with every glance. When he met eyes with Gabriel, their kiss was the only thing he could think about. The moisture, the passion, the taste, the intensity... It exploded in Sam's awareness every time, like small continuous bombs of infatuation. God, Gabriel's lips were so soft, and his tongue knew just the right way to move. Sam had never kissed anyone that way... not even Jessica...

The cabin came into view only minutes after they left the bar, mostly because Dean was driving like a maniac. He slammed on the breaks in the driveway too, making everyone lunge forward with the sudden halt. Once the Impala was shut off, Dean jumped out of the car to rip open Gabriel's door. The archangel cowered away from the man as if he thought Dean was going to physically hurt him.

“Get out!” Dean growled, pointing toward the ground like a parent pissed at his kid, “Out! Now!”

“Okay, okay!” Gabriel grumbled, obeying Dean's command and walking toward the front door, “Take it easy, Rambo.”

“Take it easy?!” Dean repeated, shoving the tiny archangel into the cabin, “Oh, I'll _take it easy_ alright. Just as soon as we can get rid of your feathery ass! You're nothing but a freakin' hassle!”

Sam glared at the back of his brother's head as he followed him into the cabin, feeling protectiveness wash over him again. It was understandable for Dean to be upset about Raphael getting the spell ingredients and the Impala being stolen. Sam could put up with his bitching about that stuff. But there was absolutely no reason for Dean to call Gabriel names and belittle him.

“Give it a rest, Dean,” Sam pleaded, trying defend Gabriel from Dean's wrath.

Dean spun around in the living room to flash his furious eyes at Sam. His finger raised too, pointing toward his little brother with conviction.

“ _You_ ,” he breathed, his voice lethal, “Don't even get me started on _you_ , Sam. I told you to get the hell out of Rufus's truck and you didn't listen to a word I said. Raphael could have killed you tonight, dammit. Then where would we be? Don't you _ever_ do that shit again, Sam. I freakin' mean it.”

Sam gulped. He couldn't deny that what Dean said was true. But thankfully, things didn't happen the way he had feared. Beyond Dean, Sam could see that Gabriel was fidgeting by the couch with irritation, as if he didn't like listening to Dean shout at Sam.

“You can't tell the kid what to do,” the archangel spoke up, causing Dean to whip around with fury, “He's a grown-ass man. He can make his own decisions.”

Any patience Dean had left abandon the room after Gabe's statement. Dean stormed across the floor and grabbed Gabriel's tiny arm along the way, clutching him in a vise-like grip again. The older Winchester yanked the archangel all the way to the basement door, making Gabe stumble with his fierce grip. Sam took an anxious breath as he watched Gabe's eyes flash toward his own with worry.

“That's it. You've lost your couch privileges,” Dean growled, ripping open the basement door, “You're gonna stay in the freakin' basement until I figure out what the hell to do with you.”

Sam's mouth fell open. Dean was just going to stick Gabriel in the basement?! Like a misbehaving animal?! Dean shoved Gabriel into the doorway, making the archangel stumble down a few steps. Sam could hear Gabriel trying to climb his way back up the stairs. In the meantime, Dean was bounding toward the couch to grab the cushions, pillows, and blankets. Gabriel barely had time to poke his head back out of the doorway to glance at Sam before Dean tossed all the comfortable fabrics at him. Sam cringed, hearing the clatter of Gabriel tumbling down the steps with the heap of cushions. Dickie flew across the room in a blur, racing passed Dean to dash into the basement with his owner.

“You're not allowed to come back up until you've learned your damn lesson!” Dean shouted downstairs before slamming the door shut.

It felt like Sam's stomach had bottomed out. How could Dean just throw Gabriel downstairs like that?! Gabe wasn't a child! And he certainly didn't deserve to be pushed down the stairs! The older brother stomped away from the door after that, heading into the kitchen to rip open the fridge. Cas – who had been standing by silently throughout Dean's entire bitch fit – followed him into the kitchen and the two of them started talking quietly to each other. It sounded like Cas was apologizing for Gabriel's behavior and mentioning a new strategy against Raphael. Sam was in angered awe at them both. How could they do something so mean to someone and then go about their business like it never happened?

Sam watched Cas and Dean as he crept toward the basement door. If they were going to shove Gabriel down there and pretend that he didn't exist, then Sam was going to give up his own existence to be with him. The man made sure Cas and Dean were both focused on their conversation as he carefully turned the doorknob and disappeared down the steps.

Rufus's basement was chilly and smelled faintly of rusted metal and spray paint. The scent flooded Sam's mind with memories, making him recall cases that he had worked on with Bobby and Rufus himself. Sam took a few breaths of the aged aroma as he carefully walked down the steps. The closer he got to the bottom of the stairs, the more he could see the workshop. The room was full of cabinets housing gun ammo, toolboxes aplenty, and a couple of dusty old tables. Still cluttered with Rufus's stuff. Everything was old and monotone down here. Gabriel stuck out like a sore thumb in this boring room.

The archangel had turned on the light and moved all the couch cushions to the middle of the floor after Dean's angered rant. He remained unaware that Sam had come downstairs to be with him and the man didn't make his presence known, either. Sam actually just wanted to watch Gabriel in silence for a moment to figure out what he could possible say to the guy. He watched Gabriel scoop Dickie off the floor and cradle him close. The dog was whining a little as if he was frightened by Dean's outburst.

“Oh, it's alright, Dickie-wickie,” Gabriel cooed, giving the dog a few comforting strokes, “Dean's not a total dickbag. He's just pissed right now is all. And Raphie didn't hurt me that much. See? Barely gave me a scratch.”

“A scratch?” Sam repeated quietly with a smirk.

Gabriel turned around at the sound of Sam's voice – and the two of them fully looked at each other for the first time since their kiss. Their smiles faltered a bit, their cheeks reddened, and Sam couldn't help but feel like he was back in elementary school, staring at his playground crush. Gabriel carefully lowered Dickie into the floor before taking a very cautious step forward. Sam took an uneasy breath, glancing down to see that Gabriel's shirt was still ripped in half. The blood-stained fabric was barely wrapped around his small torso – and it was revealing a large portion of his smooth bare stomach. Oh, God. How was Sam supposed to form coherent words when Gabriel was so exposed?

“So,” Gabriel uttered, eyes still set on Sam's, “Sexyman saves the day again. The crowd goes wild.”

Sam smiled, recalling the night that Gabriel first called him 'Sexyman.' In all honesty, Sam didn't really like being thought of as a hero, especially for saving someone he was close to. Sam protected Gabriel for the same reason he always tried to protect Dean – because he cared about him. The man watched Gabriel's small foot take another slow step forward as the archangel spoke again.

“Seriously, moose. What are you doing down here?” Gabe asked as his eyes flickered toward the stairs, “I don't think freckles would be happy to know that you're trying to play with me while I'm in a time-out.”

Sam cleared his throat a bit and tossed a glance toward the stairs for himself. Gabriel was probably right. Dean would probably try to yank Sam all the way back up the stairs if he knew his little brother was down here with the trickster. But after coming face to face with Raphael and witnessing Dean's dramatic little tantrum, Sam just didn't give a shit anymore. The man turned back to meet eyes with Gabriel again, feeling his heart swell with emotion.

“If Dean is going to be a jerk to you, then he can be a jerk to me. You jump, I jump, right?” Sam smirked, hoping the Titanic reference might make Gabe feel better.

The smile that lit up Gabriel's face gave Sam chills. He was more beautiful than ever, standing in ragged bloodstained clothes in the middle of Rufus's basement. The archangel raked a hand through his shaggy golden hair as his honey eyes probed Sam's with admiration.

“Damn right, kiddo,” he agreed.

Sam's smile flashed back for a brief second before disappearing. He was fully aware that Gabriel was still inching closer, steadily craning his neck toward Sam's face. And _Sam_ was stepping forward, too. The space between them was slowly dwindling as if they were being drawn together like magnets. Once again, the only thing Sam could think about was their kiss; the sweet flavor, the erotic texture. Sam's eyes were on Gabriel's pouted pink lips when words suddenly started to come out of his own mouth.

“Y – you're a good kisser,” Sam complimented.

The sight of Gabriel's bare skin must have shut down the filter between Sam's mind and mouth or something because he didn't mean to say that out loud. Gabriel smirked proudly at the words though, as if he won a contest. His entire tiny body was less than a few inches from touching Sam's. And Sam's body was physically responding to the close proximity. He could feel his own heart pumping blood toward his crotch and his stomach tensing with arousal. Shit, Gabriel looked so damn _attractive_ in that moment with his blood stained clothes and messy blonde hair. Ugh, he was just so damn _sexy_...

“I, um, I meant what I said, you know,” Gabe said quietly, voice housing seriousness, “All jokes aside, kid... I really am in love with you.”

Sam's pulse nearly skyrocketed. His breath was becoming raspier, the lower his mouth dipped toward Gabriel's. Their lips were on a collision course, a straight line in which they were inevitably going to meet. And Sam had no intention of stopping it either. Sam was finally letting his heart call the shots. He was finally giving in to the desires that he had tried so desperately to hide...

“ _I'm in love with you, too_ ,” Sam admitted in a whisper before closing the distance between them.

Sam and Gabriel were suddenly kissing for the second time, mouths connected and hands flying up to take hold of each others' faces. Sam hummed a bit as he raked his fingers through the archangel's silky hair and tasted Gabe's moist tongue. Good God, Sam had never kissed anyone this way. He had never wrapped someone so hard against him, or clung to them with such desperation, or let his own tongue swim in their mouth like it belonged there. Gabriel seemed just as affected by the power of their kiss as Sam was. The archangel was tugging at Sam's lengthy hair with one hand and diving into the collar of the man's shirt with the other, scraping his fingertips down the top of Sam's back.

Sam fought back a moan. The sensation of Gabriel's small hands running across his skin was making a boner twitch to life inside his pants. The man suddenly felt like an animal, acting on instinct rather than knowledge. As his and Gabriel's tongues swirled together, Sam was taking firm steps forward, guiding them toward a workbench where Gabriel's ass bumped against it. The abrupt motion caused their hips to meet in a firm impact – and even through all the layers of clothing, Sam could feel that Gabriel was getting hard, too.

Gabe whimpered a bit behind their kiss before hopping up on the small table to sit. Another moan threatened to escape Sam's mouth when he felt Gabriel's legs circle his waist and pull him close. Their open mouths were nearly level now and they were still kissing furiously, tugging at each others' clothes and panting from their noses. Gabriel was pulling at Sam's shirt horizontally, making the buttons pop off and fly in different directions. Once the buttons were all gone, Gabe shoved the shirt off Sam's broad shoulders, making the fabric slide down the man's arms and gather into a plaid heap on the floor. Sam enjoyed the feeling of open air hitting his bare skin. His own hands found their way to the front of Gabriel's ripped shirt, where he grabbed handfuls of the fabric and tore it the rest of the way off. A generous moan echoed from Gabe's throat and between their joined mouths as his pale torso was being exposed. Sam's dick throbbed at the sound as he muted Gabriel with his own tongue again. Shit, he loved hearing Gabriel cry out like that...

When Gabriel's small hands brushed against Sam's belt, the man seemed to regain a sense of awareness. He opened his eyes to blink repeatedly at an old poster on the wall behind Gabriel and he wondered where the hell all of this kissing was leading. Sam carefully tugged his mouth free from Gabriel's in order to take a breath and look at the archangel properly. Gabe searched Sam's eyes afterward, probably wondering why they stopped.

“What – what are we doing?” Sam asked, his voice higher than he remembered.

“Um, I think we're making out,” Gabriel answered carefully.

Sam gulped, glancing down to see Gabe's hardened nipples and blonde chest hair. The sight of his pale torso expanding and retracting with his breath was enough to make Sam's dick twitch again.

“But our shirts are gone,” Sam pointed out, still trying to get a grip.

“Yeah, I know. That's the best part,” Gabriel grinned, reaching up to run his hands deliberately over Sam's chest.

Sam sighed erotically at the feeling of Gabriel's warm hands on him. Shit, that was so nice... but what did it mean? Sam fully met eyes with Gabriel again, wanting to know the answer.

“Are we – are we gonna have sex?” he asked, feeling like a virgin all over again.

“Man, I hope so,” Gabriel smiled, pecking Sam's lips with another kiss, “Why, sweetheart? Did – did you not want to?”

“No, I do!” Sam objected instantly, “Believe me, I do. It's just... I've never had sex with a guy before.”

“Me either. Wanna give it a try?” Gabriel asked, eyes seductive.

Sam's heart was working overtime; beating as fast as a drum roll. Yes, he wanted to have sex with Gabriel. More than anything. But Sam didn't exactly feel confident about doing it with another man. All of his past sexual encounters had been breezes because he knew _how_ to do it; where to put things and how to move them. But sex between two men was something that Sam knew nothing about and he was worried that he might mess it up. Or worse – he might accidentally hurt Gabriel somehow.

“I don't want to hurt you. I mean, I don't even know how we would do it,” Sam admitted, feeling a little guilty, “And what about condoms? Do – Do we need a condom? Is there enough space the basement for this? Oh God, what if Dean hears us? What if -”

“Whoa, whoa, shhh,” Gabriel interrupted, reaching up to take Sam's face with both of his hands, “Easy there, lil' baby moose. Calm your antlers. We just need a plan.”

“Plan?” Sam repeated, still out of breath.

“Yep. Here's what we're gonna do,” Gabriel began, sounding like a professional, “You're gonna sneak upstairs and find us some supplies – _Lube_ , Sammy-boy. We're gonna need lots of lube – then, you're gonna sneak back down here, okay?”

Sam nodded feverishly, trying his best to remain calm even though he was nervous as hell.

“While you're doing that, I'm gonna stay down here and make us a nice cozy spot on the floor out of the cushions that your brother so graciously provided for us,” Gabe smirked, gesturing to the cluster of fabric behind them, “and when you get back, we'll decide what to do from there. Alright? Sound good? Think you can do it, Sexyman?”

Sam nodded his head again, unable to form words. Gabriel tugged the man's face down to plant another kiss on his lips. Sam's eyes fluttered closed and his cock ached, feeling the archangel's tongue rub against his own. Gabe plucked his mouth away quickly though, and pushed on Sam's shoulders.

“Autobots, roll out,” he chorused, hopping off the workbench.

Gabriel dashed to the mound of cushions in the floor as Sam stumbled toward the stairs. The man could hear his own heart beating in his ears when he scrambled quickly up the steps. He was replaying his assignment over and over in his head on the way; _find some supplies, get lots of lube, come back to Gabe_. Sam took a nice long look at Gabriel's bare back before setting his sights on the door in front of him – where he paused on the stairs. Oh, shit. Dean was probably roaming around just beyond the door. What would he do if he saw Sam coming out of the basement – without a shirt on? Sam gulped and took a deep breath. He couldn't let his older brother ruin this. Having sex with Gabriel was too important. After bracing himself, Sam carefully turned the knob and poked his outside.

By some miracle, Dean wasn't around. The lights were all off and the front door was closed, but there was no sign of Dean or Cas. Sam very cautiously eased his way into the main room, hearing Dickie's tiny footsteps following him. Where did his brother and the angel go? Sam noticed that the light from the bathroom was on, but the door was closed. Voices were humming quietly from inside the room, making Sam think that Dean and Cas might be in there... together. Why were they alone in the bathroom? Though he was curious about why Dean and Cas were talking in the bathroom, Sam knew he had a mission to complete.

The man quietly dashed across the open floor to the bunk beds where his duffel bag was laying and quickly ripped open the front compartment, where he kept his stash of condoms. There were at least eight of them, all connected together in a long strip. Oh man, how many of them did he need? How many times were he and Gabriel going to do it tonight? Sam took all of the condoms from the front pocket – just in case – before tossing the bag back on the floor.

With a cluster of condoms in hand, Sam spun around to face the open living room and kitchen, where Dickie was sniffing around near the closet. Lube. Where the hell was Sam supposed to get lube? Rufus never kept any of that stuff around. None that Sam knew of, anyway. And neither of the Winchesters carried lube around with them because, frankly, they never got laid often enough to need it. Sam was racking his brain as he stepped lightly through the living room, searching around anxiously. What could he use as a substitute for lubricant? Water? No. Cooking oil? Maybe, but that seemed kind of gross. Dammit, what could Sam use?!

Dickie started barking quietly from the kitchen, causing Sam to nearly gasp with surprise. The man instantly shushed the dog, fearing that Dean might hear him and come to see what was wrong. Dickie was scratching the closet door in the kitchen, still barking at Sam in a demanding tone.

“ _What? What do you want_?” Sam hissed in a whisper, reaching out to rip the door open.

Dickie dove inside the closet at once, leaving his tiny little butt to wiggle out in the open. Sam watched him, wondering if he saw a mouse or something. The dog backed quickly out of the closet only a moment later with a container in his mouth. He dropped it at Sam's feet and barked a few more times as if it was the only reason he wanted to get into the closet in the first place. Sam knelt down and picked up the small tub – and nearly gasped again. It was _Vaseline_! It was the lube that Sam and Gabriel needed!

“Dickie! Good boy!” Sam rejoiced quietly, picking up the dog to plant kisses all over his furry face.

The tiny dog licked Sam's cheeks before the man gently put him back in the floor. How was it possible for Dickie to have known exactly what Sam was looking for and where the hell to find it?! Although he was thoroughly perplexed and astounded by Dickie's find, Sam knew he needed to get back downstairs to Gabriel. He stole a glance toward the bathroom door to make sure he could still hear Dean and Cas talking to each other in there before tip-toeing back into the basement. Dickie raced passed Sam's feet on the way, carrying his stuffed moose in his mouth.

Once the basement door was securely shut behind him, Sam nearly ran down the stairs. Gabriel was in the middle of fanning out a blanket over the newly arranged couch cushions on the floor. He had done an almost perfect job of placing them flatly together, forming a large rectangular love nest. And the comfy blanket caused the make-shift bed to look even more inviting. Gabriel's amber eyes flashed up at Sam when the man came into the room clutching condoms and Vaseline in his grasp. Sam gulped, seeing the archangel's topless half again. Geez. Since when did the sight of a man's bare chest become so damn arousing?

“Ah! You made it back in one piece,” Gabriel congratulated, dashing to meet Sam, “Did Dean not try to stop - ?”

Sam cut off the archangel's sentence by clobbering him with another kiss. The man couldn't help it. His body was craving to get started. His large arms wrapped around Gabriel's warm bare back as they tumbled onto the blanketed cushions on the floor. Sam's entire pelvis was throbbing with heat and dying to thrust. He finally understood what people were talking about when they mentioned burning loins. Gabe carefully plucked his mouth away from Sam's and made a small whimper as he ran his fingers through Sam's hair again.

“L – lube, Sammy? Did you find some?” the archangel asked, sounding just as eager.

Sam raised to his knees and showed Gabriel the items he had retrieved from upstairs.

“Dickie found the Vaseline,” Sam panted with a smile.

Gabriel's head snapped toward the right to give a grin to his dog across the room.

“Good boy, Dickie! Papa's proud of you!” he praised.

But of course, the dog didn't pay any attention to Gabriel. He was too busy molesting his stuffed moose near a cabinet, giving the poor thing all he had. Some primal, sexual urge burst through Sam at the sight of Dickie's thrusting hips. Oh, God. Sam wanted to thrust his own like that. He wanted to thrust against Gabriel, and claw at his soft skin, and pant into his pretty face...

“Dean didn't say anything to you?”

Gabe's question pulled Sam's attention away from the hump-machine across the room.

“N – no,” Sam managed to say, “It sounded like he was in the bathroom with Cas.”

The archangel gave a chuckle at Sam's statement.

“They're probably upstairs doing the same thing we are,” he winked.

“Dean and Cas are not gay,” Sam reminded for the millionth time.

“Neither are we, kiddo,” Gabriel grinned, “but that's not stopping us.”

“Can we just do it now, please?” Sam nearly begged.

His hand had fallen down to cradle his own crotch where his boner was pressing firmly against the denim. It was borderline uncomfortable by this point, impatiently reminding Sam that it wanted to be stimulated. Gabriel's amber eyes flickered toward Sam's jeans before he sat up straight on the cushions.

“Alright, sweetheart. But I think that one of us is gonna have to be the pitcher and the other one will have to be the catcher,” he said carefully, meeting Sam's eyes again.

Sam gulped. Although Gabriel had said it in a loving tone, the man could still hear the subtle hint of discomfort in the archangel's voice. Sam knew what the guy was talking about. It meant the 'pitcher' would be the top and the 'catcher' would be the bottom. And even though he was still excited about doing this with Gabriel, Sam dreaded the thought of being the catcher. Wouldn't that hurt? Wouldn't that be the opposite of pleasure? Gabriel could apparently see the fear in Sam's eyes because he was suddenly trying to be cheerful.

“How about we play for it, huh?” Gabe said, sitting up to put his hands into a 'rock, paper, scissors' formation, “Winner gets to pitch.”

Sam took a deep breath before dropping the condoms and Vaseline to copy Gabriel's hand formation. Sam's winning streak with 'rock, paper, scissors' was almost undefeated, thanks to Dean always picking scissors, so his confidence was pretty solid. The man and the archangel stared at each other as they hit their own hands three times and chose one of the options. Sam looked down, fearing the worst...

“Ah, dammit,” Gabriel grumbled quietly, staring at Sam's scissors and his own paper, “Okay, okay, I'll take it. But you better be gentle with me, moose. I'm still human, you know.”

Before Sam knew it, Gabe was taking his own pants off. The archangel wasted no time unbuttoning his jeans and tugging the denim fabric down his legs, exposing his own hardened dick without warning. The air vanished from Sam's lungs and his own cock pressed even harder against his palm. Shit. How could the sight of another man's erection look so good? Why was it so arousing to see Gabriel in nothing but his skin? Gabe tossed away his pants and laid back on the arranged cushions, bending his legs back just enough to put his own ass in Sam's line of sight. Sam's face burned, seeing Gabe's pink opening...

“What are you waiting for, kiddo?” Gabriel asked, sounding bewildered, “Lube me up. Let's go.”

Sam didn't need to be told twice. The man instantly reached for the Vaseline and popped it open. He dove his hand into the semi-hardened texture and scooped some out before rubbing it between his fingers to warm it up. His entire hand was trembling when he finally brought the oily substance to Gabriel's entrance. The archangel barely flinched at Sam's touch. The man was being as gentle as possible, running the goo up and down Gabe's crack and pressing a finger slowly inside of him. Oh, good God, he felt so _tight_. The man ached, watching his finger disappear inside the archangel over and over again. Gabriel's flexing hole and his heated insides were teasing Sam's finger with a massage; a massage that his dick wanted so badly to feel...

“Mmm,” Gabe hummed, seeming to be enjoying it, “That's good, Sammy-boy. Lemme have it.”

Have it? Did he want to have Sam's _dick_ , now? Excited beyond words, Sam carefully withdrew his finger from Gabe's ass to undo his own pants. His hands were slippery and uncooperative but he eventually freed his erection. It wobbled out in the open between his kneeling legs to point towards Gabe's opening with eagerness. Sam watched Gabriel's eyes grow wide at the sight of his dick, as if Gabe hadn't been expecting its large size. Not wanting to waste any more time, Sam reached for the strip of condoms laying next to them. He tried his best to get one open; to tear the wrapper with his fingers. But his hands were too damn slippery. The condom just kept sliding around in his grasp.

“I – I can't get it,” Sam panted, feeling a twinge of panic at his own futile efforts.

“I don't think we need them, baby-moose,” Gabe shrugged, ripping them out of Sam's hands to toss them away, “You won't be knockin' me up anytime soon.”

Sam tried to breathe as he looked back down at Gabriel's opening. Never in his whole life did Sam ever have sex without a condom. Not even with Jessica. He was always careful to use protection in order to avoid parenthood. But Gabriel had a good point. There wasn't much to worry about when the sex was between two guys...

With quivering hands, Sam lubed up his own erection before carefully bringing it to Gabriel's entrance. He watched the archangel brace beneath him as he very slowly slid inside. Pleasure was radiating all the way up Sam's spine at the sensation of penetrating Gabe, making him want to start thrusting. Gabriel's mouth was open and panting and his golden eyes were completely on Sam the whole time their bodies were melting into one.

“Oh, S – Sam,” Gabe breathed in a tiny gasp, “You're... huge...”

“I'm sorry,” Sam whispered sincerely.

Gabriel shook his head and reached up to hook an arm around Sam's neck. It seemed like he didn't mind Sam's large size. Both of them moaned a little as Sam withdrew his hips and rocked them back against Gabe's ass for the first time. Sam's lengthy hair was hanging down and swaying back and forth as he hovered over Gabriel's tiny frame. The archangel's eyes never departed from Sam's as the man picked up speed. Shit, Gabriel felt so good from the inside. So tight and warm and wet...

“Shit, Gabe,” Sam whimpered, lowering his mouth to give the archangel's lips a quick kiss, “I – I love you so much.”

The words had come from the depths of Sam's soul and they were nothing but pure and true. Gabriel moaned a little bit, flashing his golden eyes to all the parts of Sam's face before pulling him down into another kiss. He rocked forcefully with Sam's movement as if he wanted Sam to go faster. And Sam complied, thrusting into Gabriel with as much speed as he could muster. Pleasure exploded in Sam's body at the difference, making him moan again. Shit, this wasn't going to take long now...

“Ah, Sam,” Gabe moaned, his fingertips drawing lines against the man's back, “Where did you get all these muscles? The bodybuilding store? It feels like I'm having sex with the incredible Hulk.”

Sam hummed a smile behind another kiss before glancing down between their moving bodies. Gabriel's dick was still rock hard and pointing toward his belly button, flicking around with Sam's brutal thrusting. The sight of it made Sam wonder – Was Gabriel enjoying this, too? Was he feeling any pleasure at all? Sam wanted to reach down and grab the thing; to stroke Gabe's erection while this was all taking place. But Sam was still a little nervous. What if Gabriel didn't want to be touched that way? Sam met the archangel's eyes again, feeling bashful.

“Can – Can I touch you?” Sam asked, pointing toward Gabriel's cock between them.

Gabe's eyes flashed between Sam's face and his own dick, appearing bewildered again. He was acting as though Sam had asked the dumbest question ever.

“What do I look like? A museum exhibit?” he nearly laughed, “Of course you can touch me, kid! In fact, I _want_ you to. Do it, Sam. Put your hands on me.”

Sam acknowledged Gabriel's requests and grabbed his dick at once. Gabe groaned loudly when Sam started to pump the hard organ in unison with his own motions. There was no denying that they were both receiving pleasure, now. Everything was quickly mounting toward an explosive end. Sam slathered Gabriel's craning neck with wet kisses as he thrust faster, enjoying all tiny noises escaping the archangel's mouth. Gabe was clinging to Sam's shoulders and nearly clawing at the man's hair, rocking right along. Shit, Sam was so close now. He could feel that his orgasm was just a few more thrusts away. Just within reach...

“G – Gabriel,” Sam croaked, panting against the archangel's neck, “Ahh! Holy _shit_! Yes!”

The man was coming before he could stop it, spurting inside Gabriel while his hips thrust awkwardly during the climax of his orgasm. The only thing Sam could do while it took place was blink repeatedly at Gabriel's golden hair splayed across the blanket and cling to the archangel beneath him. His hand had clamped down firmly on Gabriel's hot cock in the rush of his orgasm and Gabriel was moaning out loud with him, filling the room with the gorgeous sound of their cries blurring together. Sam never had an orgasm with so much intensity. There was so much emotion and arousal and _love_ flowing through him in that tiny space of time, that Sam nearly forgot his own name. For that brief moment, the only thing Sam cared about was the sweet-scented archangel writhing beneath him...

“Gnah! S – Sammy,” Gabe panted, rocking his hips toward Sam's hand, “Tug on it, sweetheart! I'm – I'm so close!”

Sam tried to catch his breath as he raised up, realizing that Gabriel still hadn't finished yet. The man took a second to gather the rest of his strength before pumping Gabe's dick in a blur. This was something that Sam had no problem with. He treated Gabriel's erection the same way he treated his own during masturbation, milking it with a firm grip to get Gabe to the finish at a nice pace. And Gabriel responded accordingly. He groaned out loud and his stomach tensed up, making his back curl up and his toes spread.

“Ahh! Don't stop, Sam! I'm – I'm gonna - !”

Within seconds, Gabriel's dick was spouting fluid, dousing the archangel's stomach and Sam's hand with semen. And Sam could feel the archangel's orgasm from the _inside_ too, all of Gabe's internal muscles flexing against his own dick. Sam smiled, enjoyed the feeling of Gabriel's warm finish oozing down his fingers. He felt oddly proud to be responsible for causing Gabe to feel so much pleasure.

The archangel flinched a bit when Sam carefully pulled out of him, whimpering and panting in a high pitched tone. Sam carefully let go of Gabe's dick and wiped his wet hand on the blanket, watching Gabriel blink lazily up at him. They were both sweaty, out of breath, and speckled with come. But they had done it. Sam and Gabriel had just had sex for the first time. And it was perfectly glorious.

“Wow,” Gabe breathed, reaching up to cup Sam's face with his warm palm, “That – that was better than my first Butterfinger.”

Sam chuckled a little, easing down to bring his face closer to Gabe's. He was kind of flattered to hear that their sex was better than Gabriel's first Butterfinger.

“That good, huh?” Sam mumbled, raking the damp hair from Gabe's forehead.

“Better,” Gabriel grinned proudly.

Sam searched the archangel's beautiful face for a moment before recapturing his mouth again. His tongue did circles around Gabe's and their lips suctioned together as Sam's eyes flickered closed. Gabriel was kissing him back with just as much passion, cradling Sam's shaggy head close and tightening his legs around the man's waist. The archangel pulled back after a moment to look at Sam properly again. Sam could tell that his playfulness was gone and that something new was in his eyes. Gabriel seemed to be dead serious for once, feeling something that Sam couldn't describe.

“Did you really mean it, Sam?” he asked, almost in a whisper, “Do you really... _love_ me?”

Sam blinked down into Gabriel's golden eyes, feeling confused. Was Gabriel really questioning Sam's honesty? Did Gabe really think that he wasn't telling the truth?

“Yes,” Sam answered, nodding, “Gabe, I – I love you a lot.”

It was the truth. The notion had taken Sam a while to warm up to, but yes. Sam loved Gabriel more than he could put into words. A soft smile appeared on Gabriel's moist lips. His small fingers dove back inside Sam's lengthy hair as he swallowed a gulp.

“No one's ever said that to me before,” he seemed to admit.

Sam's heart utterly broke in half at the hint of sadness in Gabe's voice. Gabriel had never been told that he was loved? Did his father not tell him how important he was? Didn't his brothers ever show him any affection? Was there not a single being in existence that had ever said the words 'I love you' to him? Sam's mouth suddenly dove back into Gabriel's, surprising him with a meaningful, genuine kiss. The man did his best to cradle Gabe close to his heart while his tongue smashed into Gabe's, hoping the archangel could feel every ounce of love that Sam had for him...

“Well, get used to it,” Sam said, peppering more kisses along Gabe's bare shoulder, “because I'm going to say it to you everyday.”

A gentle hum of approval vibrated from the archangel's throat as his golden eyes flickered shut. Sam could tell that the strenuous sex had taken the rest of Gabriel's energy. Instead of bothering him with more words, Sam laid his weary head on Gabe's bare chest. His cheek was pressed against Gabriel's breastbone and he could hear and feel the steady rhythm of the archangel's heart beating against his ear. _Thump-thump, thump-thump_...

“I love you, Gabe,” Sam whispered into the silence, wanting to remind him one more time.

Sam felt Gabriel's tiny hand fall gently against his bare back, where the archangel held him tightly. His heart was still beating against Sam's face, lulling the man into sleep. Sam let his eyes close, thinking that Gabriel had already passed out underneath him. But just as he was nearing the edge of unconsciousness, Sam heard the faint hum of Gabe's lovely voice again...

“I love you too, kid,” Gabriel mumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This particular chapter of this particular fic deserves a lot of credit, because it is the reason that all my stories came to this site in the first place. Someone on FF.net, who had been reading this story while I was first writing it, felt that this smut scene was too graphic and threatened to report me. Luckily, my page on FF.net is still active, so I guess they never followed through with their threat. But still. I'm very grateful to AO3 for their tagging system and overall welcome of all types of Fanfiction, no matter how weird or smutty. ;) Some folks have told me that this sex scene happened 'too fast' - but have you seen how fast Sam and Dean jump into bed with people on the show? One-night-stands are a regular occurrence when you're a hunter. (Just ask John Winchester and his other son, Adam.) Sam will think about how fast this is moving more in the next chapter, but for now, let's let the poor guy enjoy his first night with the Trickster, eh? ;)
> 
>  **What's going on with Destiel** : So, Cas saw the Sabriel kiss, but his first thought was "Oh, Sam thought Gabriel was dying, just like Dean thought I was dying in Egypt. This must have something to do with fear of death or something." Cas heals Gabriel, realizes what he has done, and goes and gets Dean - who is already pissed at Gabriel for taking the spell stuff to Raphael. The events from the start of this chapter take place, Dean throws Gabe downstairs and goes into the kitchen to calm down, Sam sneaks downstairs. Meanwhile, Cas tells Dean that he has a new strategy against Raphael that involves the altar on which the spell is to be performed. The angel starts to feel anxious about what he saw happen between Sam and Gabriel, so he bashfully pulls Dean into the privacy of the bathroom and quietly admits that he saw the Sabriel kiss. Dean freaks out and tries to get out of the room to beat the shit out of Gabe, but Cas stops him and gently says, "Did we not do the same thing in Egypt, Dean?" to which Dean becomes flustered and red-faced and replies with, "That's different! I did that because I..." Cas senses Dean's hesitation. "Because you what, Dean?" he urges. Dean, now at the brink of exploding with all his varying emotions, shoves Cas up against the bathroom wall and kisses him. Cas, enjoying the new kiss, responds in earnest. The two of them have urgent sex on the bathroom floor and Dean eventually falls asleep on top of Cas. The scene (in my head) ends the next morning, when Cas wakes up Dean to say that he is going to go and locate the altar. Dean begs him to be careful and not tell anyone about what happened between them. Cas agrees, kisses Dean one more time, and then flies off to locate the altar - leaving Dean in the cabin with Sam and Gabriel in the basement, knowing full-well that they are together. ;) ... So, yeah. Destiel and Sabriel both had sex at the same time and in the same house. lol. This will actually explain a lot of Dean's behavior in the next chapter as well. I hope you all are enjoying the entire look at the story. ;) Thank you so much for reading and commenting! The next chapter will be out soon! <3


	8. Chapter 8

Something soft and warm nudged against Sam's bare leg as he slept. The small touch made the man twitch but wasn't enough to wake him up completely. He was still in the depths of sub consciousness but somehow aware that the fuzzy object was moving up his body, tickling its way up his thigh, caressing his side, and eventually pausing to hover near his shoulder. By the time it reached his neck, Sam couldn't ignore the soft tickling anymore. He forced an eye open to blink into the bright room.

Apparently, the soft fuzzy object was Dickie. The tiny dog was sniffing the edge of Sam's shoulder, unaware that he was nudging the man awake with his wet nose. Morning light was shining in from the high basement windows and Dickie was trying his hardest to snuggle up in a sun ray next to Sam to claim as much warmth as possible. A smile slipped across the man's sleepy mouth. Sam didn't exactly know from personal experience, but maybe all dogs were like this. Maybe all dogs loved sleeping in sun rays and snuggling up to humans without a care.

A gentle hand suddenly slid across Sam's bare chest.

The man jumped at the sensation and rolled over to see who had touched him. As soon as his eyes fell to the left, Sam was instantly drown in a sea of gold; blonde hair and shiny peach skin everywhere. Gabriel was asleep and completely naked, lying next to Sam on the basement floor. They were both sprawled on top of the jumbled couch cushions, sharing the same blanket. Gabe was on his stomach, snoring quietly and clinging loosely to Sam with one arm.

It wasn't until Sam's eyes traveled back to Gabriel's hand resting on his chest that the man remembered the night before. The whole thing replayed in his mind at once – racing to save Gabriel from Raphael, watching him nearly die, kissing him for the first time, surviving Dean's rage, sneaking downstairs to be with Gabe, talking to him, kissing him again, _making love to him_... Sam blinked at Gabriel's small hand, feeling a mix of approval and shock. Damn. Did all of that really happen in such a short amount of time? Did they really go from having their first kiss to making love in less than an hour? How did that happen?

Sam's eyes slowly wandered back over to Gabriel's scruffy face, where the archangel's pouted lips were surrounded by a forest of blonde stubble. Sam was sure that there was something in the Winchester DNA that always made him feel at least a little guilty whenever he woke up next to someone after a night of raw sex. He assumed that the sudden deaths of his past partners had a role to play in his remorseful conscious; that their deaths were somehow linked with having sex with him and therefore made him feel bad when he did it again with someone else. But as he stared down at Gabriel's closed eyelids, Sam was surprised to find that he didn't feel a single ounce of guilt. So what, they had jumped into bed – or, rather, onto the floor – together in less than an hour after kissing? They had been building up sexual tension for days, right? It all had to come to a head at some point...

Sam's smile returned as he carefully reached up to move a few pieces of Gabe's blonde hair. Though the archangel was still asleep, Sam could tell that Gabriel didn't regret their night together, either. The man could clearly remember the phrase ' _I love you_ ' being spoken in Gabe's soft voice. Goosebumps suddenly rose on Sam's skin at the memory. How many times did they exchange those words last night? How many times did Sam confirm his affections to Gabe? How many times did Gabe's eyes light up when Sam said it?

A sudden cough echoed from the stairs.

Sam let go of Gabriel's hair and instantly spun toward the sound – and his heart leaped into his throat. Dean was leaning against a support beam at the bottom of the basement steps. He was fully dressed in his everyday attire – black t-shirt, faded jeans, dirty boots, no-nonsense attitude – and his green eyes were set in a mild scowl. Dean's arms were crossed too, making it look like he had been standing in the same spot for a long time. Sam could feel the blood draining from his own face as he took in the sight of his older brother. Holy shit. Dean was literally just standing six feet away, glaring down at Sam and Gabriel – _who were laying naked together under the same blanket_. Terror was on a steady rise in Sam's chest. Oh, no. Dean was going to flip his shit, wasn't he? Was he going to kill Gabe? Was he going to kill _Sam_? The longer the two of them stared at each other, the more Dean's eyes narrowed.

“I want to talk to you upstairs,” Dean said, finally breaking the awkward silence.

Sam merely blinked, too stunned to actually move. Dean's voice didn't sound as lethal as he was expecting. There was no acid in it at all. No anger or malice. Dean actually sounded kind of weary and his body language aided it. The older brother dragged himself from the support beam in order to walk toward the stairs. He flashed one more glance at Sam on the way up to the first floor.

“Now,” he added gruffly.

The quiet slam of a door reverberated around the basement and Dean was gone. Sam took several breaths, unable to look away from the spot his brother had been standing in. He was suddenly aware of his whole body, able to feel that most of his bare torso and legs had been exposed while Dean was there. And _Gabe's_! Oh, God, Gabriel's bare back – _and the top of his ass_ – were laying out in the open! Sam tried to keep his heart from pounding as he eyed the archangel's body beside him. Thank God, Gabe was still sound asleep. Otherwise, he would probably be freaking out just as much as Sam...

Not wanting Dean to come back downstairs, Sam quickly and quietly edged off the pile of cushions. Gabriel only stirred a little at the movement but thankfully remained asleep. Once Sam was up, Dickie crawled over to claim the warm spot, curling up next to his owner. Sam's insides were constricting with queasiness when he retrieved his underwear from inside his discarded jeans. As the man made himself decent, his mind was filling with questions. How long had Dean been in the basement? How long had he been standing there, just staring at Sam and Gabriel like a common stalker? And why was he acting so calm? After last night's tantrum, Sam was sure that Dean would be ready to murder someone... especially now, after seeing his brother laying naked with the trickster...

Sam took one more look at Gabriel's bare back and messy blonde hair as he started up the stairs, hoping Gabe would stay asleep until he got back. Sam's feet felt like concrete blocks, heavy and unwilling to move. But he forced himself to go upward, knowing that Dean didn't have much patience for waiting. On the way to the basement door, Sam was already trying to prepare a statement for his defense. Should he use the old ' _It's not what it looks like_ ' line? No, Dean wouldn't believe that bullshit. Maybe he could say ' _Gabe was upset and really needed a friend_ ,' instead. Or, if he was really hard-up for an explanation, Sam could always say ' _It was the heat of the moment_.' Because it was true and he knew Gabriel would thoroughly approve of the phrasing.

With a bracing breath, Sam turned the knob and pushed the door open in one quick motion, getting it over with like ripping off a band-aid. The open living room and kitchen were bright with morning sunshine and Sam could smell the lovely scent of coffee in the air. Dean came into view as the door swung all the way open. The older Winchester was standing near the wall opposite the basement door, just loitering there with a steaming mug of coffee in hand.

Sam eyed Dean cautiously as he took a step forward to shut the door behind him. Dean's face was holding a slight glare but he still seemed rather docile, with relaxed shoulders and his free hand stuffed loosely in his pocket. Sam was left feeling overwhelmingly skeptical to Dean's mellow reaction. Sam knew his brother wasn't an idiot. He knew that Dean was fully aware of what had transpired in the basement last night. So, why wasn't Dean freaking out? Why wasn't he spouting profanities and threatening murder? Sam simply stood by the basement door in nothing but his boxer shorts, waiting to hear the third degree from his older brother.

Dean took a small sip from his coffee before clearing his throat again. The room was disturbingly silent and Sam was kind of grateful when his brother started talking. Dean's voice was low and somber, holding only a small trace of bitterness.

“Please tell me that you were wasted last night,” Dean requested quietly, seeming a little disgusted, “Tell me that you found Rufus's liquor stash and drank the whole thing. Tell me that you got so damn smashed that you couldn't tell who he was.”

Sam gulped. He knew damn well that the ' _he_ ' Dean was referring to was Gabriel. But Sam couldn't give his brother the answer that he wanted to hear. As much as he knew Dean would hate it, Sam forced himself to shake his head. No. Sam didn't drink a single drop of alcohol last night. He had been high on something else. On _someone_ else... Dean took a long deep breath of exasperation at Sam's visual reply and hung his head.

“Son of a bitch,” he mumbled, sounding defeated.

Sam quickly tried to come up with a plan of defense, hoping to stop Dean's rage before it flared up again. But he couldn't find the words. How could Sam explain to his older brother – to the one person he looked up to his entire life – that he had grown to love _a man_? Dean was probably disgusted by Sam already, ashamed that his own flesh and blood would do unspeakable acts with a guy. With _Gabriel_ , of all people. Dean's head rose again and his eyes met Sam's with total seriousness.

“Did he force you somehow, Sam?” the older brother asked, his tone housing protectiveness.

“No,” Sam answered instantly, shaking his head, “No. I.. I wanted to.”

Sam could feel the heat on his own face. He wasn't afraid of confessing his love for Gabriel. But having to admit to his _brother_ that he _wanted_ to have sex with the trickster made Sam feel fifty shades of embarrassed. Dean's eyes squinted and his mouth fell open.

“ _Why_?” Dean asked, sounding a little bewildered, “Last time I checked, you hated that bastard just as much as I do. Hell, his life's mission is to make our lives miserable! Were you really _that_ desperate for a romp in the hay? Honestly, Sammy, why the hell did you want to sleep with _him_?”

After hearing Dean's question, Sam finally found the defense he had been searching for.

“Because I like him, okay?” Sammy breathed, feeling his own insides trembling with nervousness, “I like him. He's funny, and he's attractive, and he – he makes me laugh when I feel terrible, and he reminds me what it's like to be a kid again, and he makes me feel like I'm important. I know he can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but he can be really sweet, too. Like, just the other night, he actually apologized to me for being rude. _Apologized._ And he has a _dog_ , man! An adorable, fuzzy little dog that I can't get enough of. I just can't resist him, Dean. Gabriel means a lot to me and I like him. Actually, I... I _love_ him.”

A deafening silence settled amongst the room once the last syllable left Sam's mouth. The two Winchester brothers were staring boldly at each other, Dean with a look of shock and Sam with an open expression. All of the cards were on the table, now. Dean knew everything about Sam and Gabriel and Sam was bracing himself, waiting to hear a long rant about the dangers of having sex with other men or why Gabriel wasn't a suitable partner. But surprisingly, Dean's calm demeanor didn't falter at all. The older brother seemed perplexed and irritated, but not angry.

“Are you hearing yourself, Sam?” Dean asked, sounding astonished, “You _love_ him? You're talking about the _trickster_.”

“I'm talking about _Gabriel_ ,” Sam corrected.

He knew that Dean was just trying to use any excuse now, trying to convince Sam that he was crazy for loving someone that was known for being an asshole. But the younger brother stood firm in his affections. Once Sam Winchester loved something, he loved it with his entire soul. And not even Dean could persuade him otherwise...

Dean sighed again and took another frustrated sip from his coffee mug. His green eyes wandered away for a second but returned to Sam's. There was something new in his stare, now. Almost a look of pity.

“You know that this is never going to last, right?” he uttered.

Sam's heart plummeted. Never going to last? Why the hell would Dean say something like that?

“What?” the younger brother breathed, feeling queasy again, “Why – why would you -?”

“This is only going to end in one of two ways, Sam,” Dean said, his voice unyielding and his face set with seriousness, “Either Raphael is going win, free the archangels from the cage, and kill Gabriel so that he can keep his grace -”

“ _Dean_!”

“ _Or_ ,” Dean interrupted Sam's angered outburst, raising a finger, “We somehow get the jump on Raphael and stop him from opening the cage. If that happens, Gabriel will probably get his grace back. And then what, Sam? You think the trickster is going to want to stay in shitty motels with us while we try to hunt things and save people? You think he's going to come down from his ivory tower to live in the slums with you?”

Sam gulped, feeling the ache of uncertainty swirling in his chest. He didn't want to believe anything Dean said – but what if it was true? What if Gabriel turned into a different person when he got his grace back? What if he forgot all of those moments that he and Sam had shared? All those words they had told each other?

If Jack had survived the Titanic and somehow won the lottery, would he have stayed with Rose?

“I... I don't know,” Sam eventually mumbled, trying his best to cling to hope, “All I know is that I'm happy right now, Dean. So, would you please just let me enjoy it?”

A flash of guilt briefly crossed Dean's face. He seemed to have realized that he had cut Sam to the core with his words. The older brother took a deep breath and ran his hand across his own forehead as if he was upset by his own actions.

“Sorry,” Dean uttered, “I just – I just don't want you to get hurt, Sammy.”

Sam was still surprised by his brother's behavior. Where was all of this calm remorse coming from? Dean wasn't acting the way Sam thought he would. Dean was actually apologizing for upsetting Sam and not letting his anger get the best of him. What in the world had happened to change his perspective? Did Cas have something to do with it? Did their late-night discussion in the bathroom effect Dean's attitude? Sam glanced around the room, suddenly searching for the angel in a trench coat.

“Where's Cas?” Sam asked, not seeing him anywhere.

Dean's body language seemed to change instantly at Sam's question. His free hand rose to cup his coffee mug and his throat quivered with a sudden swallow. His eyes darted away and his cheeks reddened a little too, giving Sam the impression that he was embarrassed.

“He left this morning to find the altar,” Dean answered, moving quickly toward the kitchen, “He should be back pretty soon.”

“Altar?” Sam repeated, lost.

“Yeah. The altar for the spell,” Dean replied as he rinsed out his mug, “It's supposed to be in some church in the deep south. Cas is pretty sure that Raphael already has all three ingredients, so the only shot we have left is to find the altar and destroy it. No altar, no portal. Home team wins.”

Sam nodded slowly. Destroying the altar did seem like a pretty good plan – if they could make it there before Raphael. Dean slowly turned back around to give Sam another look of indifference.

“You better go wake up Shaggy and Scooby and get their asses ready for battle,” he instructed, “We're leaving as soon as Cas gets here and Raphael's not gonna go down easily.”

Sam took a deep breath. He knew that his brother was giving him the chance to go back to Gabriel and he wasn't about to pass it up. As Sam backed toward the basement door, he was trying to think of something to say. Should he thank Dean for remaining calm? Should he reassure Dean that Cas would return safely? Strangely, nothing came out of Sam's mouth as he turned away. And he knew it was because he was still upset about Dean's predictions of his and Gabe's future...

Just as Sam was about to start down the basement steps, something shiny caught his eye. The man paused to look toward the left and saw the giant pile of Butterfingers on the table. Their golden wrappers were shining in the morning light, twinkling deliberately as if they were trying to get Sam's attention. Sam tossed one last look at Dean, who was digging around in the fridge, before grabbing one of the candy bars off the table. He knew that Gabe wasn't much of a morning person but maybe a nice orgasm-inducing stick of awesomeness could help him start the day.

On his way back down into the musty basement, Sam could hear a faint noise coming from the floor. It sounded kind of like an infant whimpering as if it was about to cry. A high pitched whining was accompanying the sound too, making it difficult to tell them apart. Sam nearly galloped down the steps at once, worried about Gabriel.

The room was in the same condition that Sam had left it in. The couch cushions were in a jumbled mess on the floor with Gabriel sprawled on them. But the archangel wasn't sleeping peacefully anymore. Now, he was curled up on one side, face skewed in discomfort and hands clinched into fists. The blanket was barely covering him because his legs were moving, kicking the blanket away without being aware. And he was making strange noises, panting and whimpering and slurring words. Dickie was whining and pawing at Gabriel's back, seeming concerned about his owner's condition. What was going on? Was Gabe having a nightmare?

Sam instantly dashed to the make-shift bed where he knelt down next to Gabriel's face. The archangel was still fighting an enemy in his sleep, jerking and twitching and grunting. Not wanting him to be in distress, Sam carefully clutched Gabriel's shoulder and shook him gently.

“Gabe,” Sam said loudly, “Gabriel. Wake up.”

Though Sam had to shake him several times, the archangel's golden eyes eventually flew open and he sucked in a gasp as if he had just been saved from drowning. His body paused its motions while his eyes darted around, taking in the scene with shock. Sam watched him come to his senses, feeling helpless. What kind of dream did Gabe have? Was there anything Sam could do to comfort him?

“Gabe?” Sam repeated softly, reached down to touch his cheek.

The instant Gabriel's eyes met Sam's, the archangel shrank away. He nearly rolled over on the cushions in an effort to get away from Sam, scrambling backward to cower in fear. His eyes were wide and seemed to be brimming with pure terror, as if he was staring at Adolf Hitler's reanimated corpse instead of Sam. Guilt was flowing through Sam's conscious. Why was Gabriel so afraid of him? What the hell happened in his dream?

“It's okay, Gabe,” Sam said, trying his best to comfort the frightened archangel, “I think you just had a bad dream.”

Even with Sam's reassuring words, Gabriel remained petrified. He was panting heavily, causing his chest to heave in and out and his wide eyes barely blinked. He was staring at Sam with such fear. Such absolute horror. For a moment, Sam just stared back at him apologetically, unsure of what else to do.

“S – Sam?” the archangel sputtered, searching the man's face with wide eyes.

“Yeah, it's me,” Sam breathed, feeling a little confused.

Only after taking several large breaths and looking up and down Sam's entire form did Gabriel crawl back over to him. The archangel clutched Sam's face with both hands and scanned his eyes with fervor before wrapping him into a tight embrace. Sam hugged him back immediately, burying his nose into Gabriel's soft hair and clinging to his moist back. He could feel Gabriel's facial hair scraping against his shoulder as they held each other and Gabe's lungs working overtime beneath his skin. Sam stared at the golden strands of hair in front of his eyes, wondering why Gabe had been so afraid of him.

“Gabe? Are you alright?” Sam asked quietly, able to feel the archangel's heart beating fast against his own chest.

Gabriel carefully raised his head to look at Sam's face again. Sam took in the sight of Gabe's stubble and golden eyes, hoping that he had calmed down enough to use actual words. Gabriel's hand was back on Sam's cheek, cupping the man's face with trembling fingers and tracing Sam's bottom lip with the edge of his thumb.

“You were there... I – I saw you,” Gabe said, apparently trying his best to describe his dream, “You were facing the other way... so I called your name... and you turned around... and I looked at you, but... But I didn't see _you_... It... It wasn't _you_... It was... It was...”

Sam swallowed with a hard gulp, able to hear the tiny cracks in Gabe's voice. Gabriel didn't have to finish his sentence because Sam already knew what he was about to say. The man could feel the answer in his heart, teetering in there like a heavy rock.

“Lucifer,” Sam stated without feeling.

Gabriel's nodded and looked away, cringing as if he had just been punched in the gut. Sam's hands were instantly running up and down the archangel's bare back, caressing him in an effort to comfort him. There was nothing Sam hated more than seeing Gabe in such a state of fear and grief. But he could understand why Gabriel was so upset. The archangel had just had his very first nightmare and it involved Sam being his brother's vessel. It was no wonder the guy had cowered away from Sam when he woke up. He probably couldn't tell the difference between his dream and reality at first. Gabriel probably thought he was seeing Lucifer instead of Sam...

“It was just a dream, Gabe,” Sam whispered, trying his best to sooth him, “Your brothers are still in the cage. And I'm right here with you.”

“I – I know,” the archangel breathed, resting his forehead against Sam's, “I know it's you. I can see it in your big, beautiful eyes. It's just... Ugh. That was the scariest freaking thing ever. You might have to change my diaper after that one.”

Sam smiled a little, relieved that Gabriel was finally getting his precious sense of humor back.

“Are you okay, now?” the man asked, hoping Gabe would be able to shake off his terrible nightmare.

“Eh. I'm fine, moose. Just a little weirded out,” Gabe dismissed.

Sam continued to watch Gabriel, unsure if he was telling the truth. But Gabe seemed to gradually calm down enough to take a few strong breaths. His eyes softened and traveled down to stare at his own chest. Sam followed his line of sight, seeing their bare bodies pressed together. Gabriel, of course, was still completely naked and the only thing Sam had on was his underwear. And the sight must have been humorous to Gabriel somehow, because he gave a small chuckle.

“Oh yeah. You and I got frisky last night, didn't we?” Gabe smiled, before flashing a worried look at Sam, “That wasn't part of the dream, was it? We really did have sex, right?”

“Yes. We did,” Sam nodded, amused.

Gabriel's expression softened again and he put on his best 'sexy' face. It was rather terrible, actually, because most of his face was covered by the golden beard he woke up with. Still, Sam enjoyed watching Gabe sneak their lips closer together.

“Was I any good?” Gabe asked, raising a seductive eyebrow.

Sam could feel heat trying to build up in his cheeks just from the memory of the night before. All that heat, and sweat, and pleasure, and lust...

“The best I ever had,” the man admitted, voice holding nothing but honesty.

“Wow. Best ever? That must be some kind of record,” Gabe smirked, “What do I win, huh? A lifetime supply of Butterfingers? The keys to your brother's car?”

The mention of Dean made Sam's insides curdle with discomfort. The morning conversation Sam had with his brother was replaying in his mind, making him feel shitty all over again. And the thought of it made Sam realize – Gabriel had no idea that Dean knew about them being together. Gabe must have seen the look of worry on Sam's face because his sexy smirk vanished in an instant.

“I was just kidding. I'm not going to take the Impala keys again. I'm a terrible driver, anyway,” Gabe said, trying his best to coax Sam into smiling.

“Gabe,” Sam gulped, unsure of how to phrase the events, “I think you should know that, um... Dean was here this morning. In the basement. He... He saw us. He knows.”

Gabriel's honey eyes went vacant momentarily. He was blinking repeatedly at Sam with a blank expression as if it was taking longer than usual to process the words he just heard. The guy might as well have had a loading symbol hovering over his face because he was motionless for several seconds. Thankfully, he was able to find his voice again.

“But... I'm still alive,” the archangel pointed out, his scruffy face skewing with confusion, “At least, I think I am. Let's see. Dickie's here, and you're here, and there's a Butterfinger... Wait, did Dean already kill me? Is this heaven, Sammy-boy?”

A blush bloomed on Sam's cheeks. He never thought he was important enough to be included in anyone's heaven...

“No, Gabe. We're still alive. And Dean is... surprisingly okay with us being together,” Sam informed, still unable to believe his brother's reaction, “I'm pretty sure Cas had something to do with it. But he's not here, so I can't ask.”

“Cassie's gone? Where'd he go?” Gabe asked.

“He went to find the altar. Dean wants us to be ready to leave when he gets back. Which reminds me,” Sam said, glancing up and down Gabriel's furry face, “You need a shower. And a _shave_. God, you're starting to look like a member of the Bee Gees.”

“Uh! Hey! Watch your tongue, moosie. The Bee Gees are awesome, thank you very much,” Gabe grinned with pride.

“Yeah, but I don't want to be seen kissing one,” Sam explained.

The archangel's golden eyes softened and his grin faded into a simpler smile, one full of genuine affection and love. He nestled himself closer in Sam's arms, putting their mouths extremely close together.

“Oh, that's right. I get to kiss you whenever I want now, don't I?” he whispered.

Sam nodded earnestly and his eyes slowly close as the distance between their lips vanished. Their kiss held all the same potency that it did the night before; the rush of excitement, the tingle of arousal, the overabundance of pure love... Gabe plucked his mouth away after a moment and sighed deeply.

“Did you eat Lucky Charms this morning?” the archangel asked, grinning with mischievousness.

Sam blinked at him with confusion. Lucky Charms? Did Sam's mouth taste like cereal or something?

“Um, no. Why?” he asked, lost.

“Because you're magically delicious,” Gabe answered, bouncing his eyebrows with sophistication.

Sam rolled his eyes at Gabriel's terrible joke but smiled anyway. There weren't many people in the world that could win Sam over by comparing the taste of his kiss with a cereal slogan. But Gabriel was, by far, the only exception. Sam met the archangel's smirking lips with another kiss. A wet one that incorporated their tongues. The two of them held each other in a warm in embrace for a moment, kneeling on Rufus's basement floor with Dickie watching nearby. And Sam couldn't remember a time that he had been so happy.

“I love you,” Sam whispered into their kiss, his voice echoing in Gabriel's mouth.

Gabe paused to look into Sam's eyes again and hold the man's face with both hands. Sam remembered the promise he had made the night before, about telling Gabriel that he loved him every single day. And it seemed like Gabriel had just remembered it, too. Because he was staring at Sam with reddened cheeks and a warm smile.

“I love you too, kiddo,” he replied softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is there such a thing as saying "I love you" too much? ... Nah. Not when it's being said between one of your OTPs. ;) Speaking of ships, a lot of you have asked me if there is a Destiel companion to this story. But unfortunately, there isn't one. :( I asked my readers back in 2015 if I should write out the Destiel version and most of them said no. So, "Butterfingers" is a stand-alone Sabriel fic. But the Destiel events that I told you about in chapter 7's AN actually had a huge part to play in Dean's reaction in this chapter. The reason he is so calm and reserved when he talks to Sam is because A) He learned about Sam and Gabe the night before and had plenty of time to sleep on it. And B) He and Cas were finally able to resolve their own sexual tension, thus helping him smolder out his rage. (Does that make sense? I hope that makes sense.) 
> 
> There wasn't much happening on the Destiel side of things in this chapter either, other than Dean's inner monologue about the night before and Cas locating the altar. This chapter was made mostly for the Winchester brothers to talk to each other. And for Gabriel to experience a human nightmare. (Sorry, Gabe. Welcome to mankind. It doesn't get any easier.) Btw, that 'Lucky Charms' joke was a suggestion from a reader on FF.net. Gotta give credit where credit is due. ;) I hope you all enjoyed this new chapter! Thank you all so much for taking the time to read and comment on this story! I absolutely love hearing from you! :) The next chapter will be out soon! <3


	9. Chapter 9

Sam quietly cleared his throat before he reaching forward to pick up the warm mug in front of him. The coffee inside was stale and bitter but he drank it anyway, knowing that he would need the all the caffeine he could get his hands on for the day ahead. He and Dean were both sitting at the table in the kitchen on opposite sides, not saying a word. An uncomfortable silence had occupied the room for the entire duration of breakfast and didn't seem like it was going to end anytime soon. Cas hadn't shown up yet and Gabriel was in the bathroom taking a shower. So the two Winchester brothers were left with nothing to do but sit and wait for a welcome distraction.

Sam could tell that he and his brother were both unwilling to meet each others' eyes and he was sure it was because of their morning discussion. Though Dean had accepted that Sam and Gabriel were together, it was apparent that he didn't like it. His stiff body language and lack of amusement at the mention of Gabriel's name made his feelings quite clear. But Sam was glad that he was at least _trying_ to be civil. If there was one thing Sam could always count on, it was Dean's relentless effort to keep his brother safe and happy. Even if it meant playing nice with someone he couldn't stand.

Just as Sam sat his coffee mug back on the table, the bathroom door cracked open in the background. Sam instantly sat up straight, seeing Gabriel's head pop out from the steaming room. The archangel's face was covered in a ridiculous amount of shaving cream, making him look like a younger blonde version of Santa Clause. And he was clutching a razor in his tiny hand, seeming a little intimidated.

“Uh, kiddo? I think I might need your help in here,” he called.

Dean, of course, spun around to give the archangel a look of warning, which he then promptly turned on his brother. Sam could almost see a hint of disgust in Dean's expression. It was as if he was visually saying ' _that bastard better not be calling you in there just to have sex_.' The younger brother took an uneasy breath before turning his sight back to Gabe.

“What's wrong?” Sam asked, hoping that Dean's assumption wasn't correct.

“I keep cutting myself,” Gabe frowned, pointing to his nicked chin, “I think this razor has it out for me. Can you lend me a hoof?”

Sam gulped, able to see the faint red blood mixing into the white shaving cream. It was amazing how helpless Gabriel could be when he didn't have his grace. The guy couldn't even be left alone with a razor. It was like Gabriel needed adult supervision at all times, like he was a mischievous little kid who had no regard for his own safety...

Although Dean's bitch face never wavered, Sam stood up from the table and walked over to the bathroom. He entered the steamy room and left the door cracked open behind him, to make sure Dean could hear them and know that nothing sexual was going to take place. Gabriel was fresh out of the shower, of course, and only wearing a towel around his waist. The sight of the archangel's glistening bare skin made Sam recall the night before. And the memories made a few electric pulses of arousal flash through Sam's body. But the man ignored his internal lust to focus on the task at hand. Gabriel smirked in the midst of his fluffy shaving cream beard as he held the razor toward Sam.

“I think your brother put a curse on it so that it would kill me,” Gabe whispered.

Sam rolled his eyes as he tugged Gabe closer to the sink. He carefully took hold of the archangel's wet head and started shaving his left cheek, mowing down huge streaks of shaving cream. Geez, Gabe had practically used the whole can in one go.

“How old are you, again?” the man asked with a smile, shaking the excess foam from the razor.

“Four billion, give or take a few centuries,” Gabe replied, winking for good measure, “But you can't blame me for not knowing how to shave, kid. In my defense, daddy never taught me how.”

Sam gave a slight chuckle as he carefully began swiping more cream and stubble from Gabriel's face. He could relate to the archangel's statement on a certain level because Sam's father didn't teach him how to shave, either. It was _Dean_ who first stood in the bathroom mirror with Sam and showed him how to use a razor... Sam cradled the back of Gabe's wet head with one hand as he shaved him with the other, being careful not to give him anymore cuts. The man could tell that the archangel was staring at him with open eyes as he worked, gazing at him with awe and admiration.

“You know, Sammy-boy, for a guy who's slaughtered hundreds of demons and monsters, you've got the softest touch in the world,” Gabe mumbled, curling his bottom lip so that the razor could reach his chin, “I mean it, sweetheart. You could tame lions with those huge hands.”

Sam paused to rinse the razor and hold back a smile. He was flattered by Gabriel's flowery words and the heroic depiction of his hands, but he didn't exactly agree. Sam's touch wasn't _that_ soft, was it?

“Thanks,” Sam mumbled, not sure of what else to say.

“And your eyes are prettier than Aphrodite's ass,” Gabe continued, reaching up to rake Sam's hair back, “Seriously. I could stare at them all day without even blinking. It looks like my dad threw some emerald and copper in there when he made them. Maybe some diamonds, too. Damn, they're just so _beautiful_. ”

Sam could feel his stomach filling with butterflies at Gabriel's loving words. But the more Gabe talked, the more it felt like Sam's heart was breaking in two. He could hear Dean's voice in his head again, warning him of the inevitable outcome that they were headed toward. ' _This is only going to end in one of two ways, Sam_.' The statement was rattling in Sam's head like a cobra's tail, making him cringe.

Sam had already decided that he would keep Gabriel alive whether it would cost his own life or not. He was never going to let Raphael come anywhere near Gabriel again. One way or another, Gabriel was going to make it through this fight. But even if they defeated Raphael, would Gabe be the same person once he got his grace back? Sure, Gabriel meant what he was saying _now._ But what about when this was all over? Would he still love Sam this much when he was as powerful as a God again? Would he still remember Sam's soft hands? Or his beautiful eyes?

“What's the matter?” Gabriel blurted, his eyebrows sliding together, “Did I say something wrong?”

Sam tried his best to rid his face of emotion, knowing that his terrible thoughts were probably haunting his expression. Instead of replying, Sam merely finished shaving the last part of Gabriel's soft face before rinsing out the razor again.

“I need a towel,” Sam mumbled, glancing around.

Without missing a beat, Gabriel smirked a tugged off the one from around his waist. He held it up with a devilish grin, leaving the rest of his body exposed. Sam slowly exhaled a heated breath when he looked down to see the familiar sight of Gabe's dick. It was hanging seductively between Gabe's short legs; limp, but still enough to turn Sam on. And it was painfully obvious that Gabriel had exposed himself on purpose, knowing what it would do to him. The man tried to ignore it, though, as he took the towel from the archangel and used it to wipe the remaining foam from his grinning face.

“Well, I don't look like a Bee Gee anymore,” Gabe said, glancing into the mirror, “Does this mean that you'll want to kiss me, now?”

Sam gulped, gently edging his thumb against the rim of Gabe's bottom lip.

“I always want to kiss you,” he admitted in a whisper.

The two of them were staring at each other with passion then, moving their mouths closer together. Sam meant what he said. He really did love kissing Gabriel, no matter when or where. But uncertainty was still creeping its way up the cavity walls of his chest and filling him with worry. Why was Sam doing this to himself? Why was he letting himself fall so deeply in love with someone, when all logic said that things were never going to last? ' _This is only going to end in one of two ways, Sam._ ' Why the hell did Dean have to say those damn words?

“Sam.”

Sam and Gabriel both jumped at the sound of Dean's voice. He was calling to his little brother from far away, like he was in the living room. The younger Winchester sighed and gave Gabriel's lips a quick peck before backing away.

“Get dressed, Gabe,” Sam requested, gesturing toward Rufus's bathroom closet.

The man exited the bathroom as quickly as he could, knowing that Gabe was going to try anything he could to make him stay. Sam's heart was pounding with anxiety as he made his way through the kitchen and to the living room. He was worried that Dean had heard his and Gabe's private conversation or saw that Gabe had taken his towel off. But luckily, Dean was busy.

The older Winchester was standing at the table behind the couch, filling a duffel bag with guns, angel blades, and a few sledge hammers. Cas was there with him too, holding a jug of holy oil. It seemed like the angel was fine, no harm done to him whatsoever during his brief recon mission. Sam entered the room quietly, not wanting to interrupt Cas, who was already talking about the Raphael situation.

“I observed the church, Dean, and it appeared to be completely vacant,” the angel explained, handing Dean the jug, “I know that it is unwise to assume the coast is clear, but for now, it seems to be unoccupied. I have reason to believe that the altar is there and untouched.”

“You mean, there wasn't a single angel loitering around it? Not a single henchman guarding the door?” Dean asked, unconvinced, “This is Raphael, Cas. You really think he's that careless?”

“There is a strong possibility that Raphael has not yet become aware of its location,” Cas interjected, “I only learned of its whereabouts through the decoding of ancient messages written on various tombstones. There's no telling how long it will take him to do the same. I'm hoping that we are ahead of him in the race to find the altar. Though, I'm not sure how much time we have left to destroy it.”

“Then we need to get our asses moving, don't we?” Dean sighed, finally looking up to meet his brother's eyes. His voice dropped considerably before he said, “Sam? Are you ready to do this?”

Sam could hear the subtle tone of honesty in his brother's question. Dean wasn't just asking Sam if he was ready for battle. No, Dean was asking Sam if he was ready to face Raphael again. Ready to get his ass kicked while trying to stop the apocalypse. Ready to be confronted with the possibility of losing Gabriel...

“No, Dickie. You can't come with me this time.”

Everyone in the room turned around at the sound of Gabriel's cooing voice. The archangel – who was now dressed in Rufus's plaid shirt and worn out jeans – was walking into the living room from the kitchen. His Jack Russell Terrier was in his arms, whining and licking his face. Sam's heart beat abnormally with emotion at the mere sight of Gabriel comforting his worried dog. Gabe was being so gentle and kind, petting Dickie and kissing his furry head. Ugh, why did he have to be so damn cute?

“Papa has to go kick the shit outta Riff Raph. But I'll be back, okay?” Gabe promised, putting the dog back down on his feet, “Now, run along and hump your moose or something 'til I get back.”

Even though Gabriel had given him a command to leave, Dickie didn't go anywhere. He stayed right next to Gabe as the archangel made his way closer to everyone else. Dean was slightly scowling at him of course, probably with left-over resentment from the night before. And Sam could tell that Gabe was doing his best not to meet eyes with Dean as he made a pit stop at the table.

“So, Cassie, what's the plan?” the archangel asked as he casually began stuffing his pockets with Butterfingers.

“We must get to the church immediately,” Cas informed, “Every second we waste, Raphael gets closer to victory. We need to go. _Now_ , Gabriel.”

“Okay. Chill out, little bro. Just getting some snacks for the road,” Gabe grumbled, patting his full pockets.

The archangel dashed back over to the group, where he instantly grabbed Sam's hand. A flash of infatuation raced through Sam's entire body when he looked down at the archangel's tiny hand holding his own. Shit. How could such a simple loving gesture make Sam feel so sad? How could something feel so good and so terrible at the same time? Gabe must have seen the anxiety on Sam's face because his golden eyebrows slid together.

Without warning, Cas stepped forward and grabbed Dean and Gabriel by the shoulders. Sam barely had time to blink before they were all flashed to a different location. The cool comfy cabin was replaced with natural sunlight and a gentle breeze. Sam's hand instantly tightened on Gabe's as he glanced around to take in his surroundings. The four of them were standing on a hillside now, with lush green grass and the clear blue sky above them. The church was a few yards away at the bottom of the hill, planted just outside of a thin forest. The building itself looked very old. Colonial-style woodwork, gaping holes where windows used to be, moss and vines growing up the sides. There was no parking lot or sidewalk around it, either. No roads or paths in sight. Obviously, this building had been kept off the map, hidden and untouched for centuries.

“The altar is in there?” Dean asked, sounding skeptical.

“Yes,” Cas answered, his blue eyes scanning the scene with caution, “Come. We must move swiftly.”

Sam took a bracing breath as he turned to face the church again. He was beginning to feel that rush of adrenaline that he always felt just before doing the worst part of a case. Only now, it was a hundred times more agonizing. Because, this time, Gabriel's life depended on the outcome...

“Hey, wait,” Gabriel called, halting Dean and Cas, “Um, can I have a minute alone with the beanpole?”

Sam – and Dean and Cas too – gave Gabriel a strange look. Why did Gabe want to talk to Sam alone? And why _right now_ when every second counted? The archangel was batting his golden eyelashes at Dean, trying to look as innocent as possible. And, by some miracle, Dean actually gave in. The older Winchester huffed a breath of frustration but started down the hill.

“One minute. That's it,” Dean warned, tugging Cas along.

Sam swallowed harshly as he watched his brother and Cas make their way to the church. Wow, Dean was being really generous. Sam's eyes slowly flickered back to Gabriel, wondering why the hell he had requested to be alone with him. But just by looking down into the archangel's pained honey eyes, Sam already knew the answer to his unasked question. He knew what Gabe was going to say. And he knew it was going to hurt like hell.

“Listen, kid,” Gabriel said quietly, reaching out to take both of Sam's hands, “This week has been the best week of my entire four-billion-year existence. Hands down -”

“Gabe -”

“No, wait, let me finish,” the archangel interrupted, stepping closer to clutch Sam's jacket and tug his face down, “I have a good feeling that we are gonna win, Sam. Because you're a Winchester and you always come out on top. Hell, you were even on top last night,” he added, smirking in reference to the sex they had, “But just in case things don't work out... If we slip up and Raphael takes the cake... I just want you to know two things, okay?”

Sam blinked hard, trying to hold the moisture in them as he nodded. Gabriel coughed and pawed at Sam's jacket before continuing.

“First,” he breathed, “You should know that... your fly has been open all morning.”

Sam's face contorted with confusion. His fly was open? The man glanced down between them to see that the zipper on his jeans was, in fact, all the way down. Sam briefly rolled his eyes and fixed it before returning to Gabriel's stare. The archangel was dead serious again and the amber orbs of his eyes were large with emotion. One of his small hands slid up to touch Sam's cheek as he went on.

“Second,” Gabe gulped, “I want you to know that... That you are the brightest, most precious thing that has ever walked the face of this earth. And you deserve to be _loved_ and _spoiled_ and treated like a _king_. And _I love you_. God, Sam, I love you so much that it  hurts... So, no matter what happens from here on out, sweetheart, just know that I only want you to be happy. Okay?”

A single hot tear slipped from the corner of Sam's eye and a tiny whimper squeaked from the depths of his throat. Dammit. How the hell was he supposed to reply to that?! Gabe's thumb swiped across Sam's cheek, clearing away the drop. But tears of his own were forming in his golden eyes. Gabriel truly meant everything he was saying. And Sam didn't have the slightest clue of how to respond to any of it.

“I... G – Gabe,” Sam croaked, stumbling over his words, “You – you are so... I just...”

Apparently seeing that Sam was in no state for talking, Gabriel yanked him down into a fierce kiss, cutting off his blubbering words. Sam's moist eyes shut as he tongued the archangel passionately. The two of them were standing on a grassy hillside in the middle of nowhere and Cas and Dean were probably watching somewhere nearby. But Sam and Gabriel kissed as if they were alone in a comfortable place. Sam wrapped his giant arms all the way around Gabe's warm back, clinging to him as if he might disappear. And Gabe had fistfuls of Sam's clothes, gripping him hard with just as much emotion.

It was only after Sam started panting through his nose that Gabriel parted their mouths. The archangel took a few breaths and unclenched his fists from Sam's clothes in order to back away. His clean-shaven face had put on a new expression, one of calm and readiness.

“I think our minute is up,” Gabe sighed, using his best a smile, “What do you say, Sammy-boy? Are you ready to go to the altar with me?”

Sam's sadness was no match for Gabriel's humor. A chuckle escaped the man's mouth at the archangel's subtle 'wedding' hint and he was back to feeling lighter than a feather again. After wiping the remaining moisture from his eyes and taking a calming breath, Sam nodded and reached for Gabriel's hand. His head was finally back in the game where it was supposed to be.

“Let's do it,” Sam agreed.

The two of them nodded toward each other before starting down the hillside with joined hands. Dean and Cas were waiting for them at the entrance of the church, standing in a cluster of weeds at the front door. It seemed like they had been in the middle of their own personal conversation because they both took a cautious step back when Sam and Gabe joined them. Sammy saw the familiar look of determination cross his older brother's face too, the one he wore when they were about to do something dangerous.

“Keep your eyes open for traps,” Dean warned, opening his duffel bag to pass out angel blades to everyone, “Just because it looks like Raphael isn't here, it doesn't mean he hasn't _already_ been here. I don't trust this place.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Gabriel replied, giving Dean a solute.

Dean and Cas met eyes and nodded before they both turned to face the church door. It took them almost no effort at all to force the door open. The wood itself nearly fell apart at their touch, cracking down the middle and breaking at the top. Sam held his angel blade up with one hand and tightened his grip on Gabe's fingers with the other as the door swung open to reveal the inside of the church. Dean and Cas darted inside at once, leaving Sam and Gabe to follow.

The church consisted of a small one-room sanctuary with broken windows and a caved-in roof. It was clear that wildlife had slowly begun to take over the building. The floor was basically made of grass and mushrooms, vines and weeds were growing up the insides of the walls, and birds were flying in and out from the windows. The air was hot and thick with dust, making it difficult to breathe. And sunlight was cascading in from the hole in the roof, illuminating the church and all of its woodsy décor.

Sam could feel Gabriel's hand tightening on his own as the two of them followed carefully behind Dean and Cas. They were all stepping between the broken, crooked pews that were all facing the front of the church – where a large wooden altar was sitting in the light. Everyone drew to a halt to take in the sight of it. The altar was basically just a wooden box. There was no special writing on it, no unusual symbols or markings. In fact, it seemed less like an altar and more like a large box for hauling cargo on a ship.

“That's it?” Dean asked, sounding just as unimpressed as Sam.

“No,” Cas answered flatly, “It's not.”

Sam and Dean's eyes flashed toward Cas at once, both full of confusion. This wasn't the altar? Had it been moved? Replaced? Cas glanced between the Winchesters, able to see their distress.

“The altar we are searching for is made of stone,” he clarified, “and it _is_ here. I can feel its presence. It's hidden somewhere in this church. We just need to find it.”

“Great,” Dean sighed, kicking at the edge of a pew, “A scavenger hunt. Just what we need while we're on the stupid clock... Alright. Everybody spread out and look for the damn thing.”

Sam heaved a sigh of his own before forcing himself to let go of Gabriel's hand. The two of them shared a look of understanding before doing as Dean instructed. Sam started for the front of the church to look around behind the wooden altar while Gabriel edged toward the right wall. Dean and Cas were both turning over pews and moving old furniture, breaking things that were in their way in an effort to find the stone altar. There was nothing in the front of the church that seemed out of place. Sam was trying his best to find anything strange or abnormal, but there was nothing. Just dirt, grass, mushrooms, and a few mice.

“Hmph. That looks nothing like me.”

Sam paused his search to look across the room at Gabriel. The archangel was standing in front of the right wall, staring hard at something hanging there. Sam lowered his angel blade and edged closer to where Gabe was standing, feeling a bit curious.

“What are you talking about, Gabe?” he asked, eying the wall.

“This,” he answered, pointing to an old painting, “It has my name on it, but it looks nothing like me. My wings are way bigger than that.”

Sam eased up behind Gabriel to study the painting in question. The canvas had been warped by years of morning dew and most of the paint had worn away. But the outline of an angel was still visible. The name 'Gabriel' was carved into the wooden frame at bottom – along with some Latin script.

“Hey, would you stop admiring your stupid selfie and get back to looking for the damn altar?” Dean growled from across the room.

“Dean, I think there's something here,” Sam called, waving him over.

The younger Winchester was already in the process of translating the Latin when Dean and Cas came over to join him. He used his many years of studying ancient texts to read the tiny sliver of words.

“It says ' _will lead the way_ ,” he said, pointing it out, “Gabe, do you know what it means?”

“Sorry, sweetheart. I've never seen this painting before,” the archangel answered, shaking his golden head.

“Maybe it's code, Sammy,” Dean suggested, taking the painting off the wall to inspect it, “or a piece of one. Are there any more of these?”

“Yes, Dean,” Cas replied, flashing to the other side of the room, “There are two here.”

“And there's another one over there,” Gabe said, dashing over to grab it off the wall.

Cas and Gabriel both came back to the Winchesters, carrying the paintings. Sam knelt down in front of a pew in the grass and took all of the paintings, placing them side by side in the seat. There were angels in all of them; Michael, Raphael, Gabriel, and Lucifer. Latin script was at bottom of every frame, just like the first. But as Sam read along, he couldn't make any sense of it. It seemed like they were all messed up.

“It doesn't make any sense,” Sam said out loud, glancing at everyone behind him.

“Maybe they go in a specific order,” Dean suggested.

“In that case, Mikey would be first, 'cause he's the oldest,” Gabe answered, reaching down to slide Michael's painting over.

“Lucifer would be next,” Cas continued, moving the paintings around, “followed by Raphael, and then Gabriel.”

Sam looked at the newly arranged set of paintings, taking in the sight of all the archangels. Each one was facing a different way; Michael toward the north, Lucifer toward the south, Raphael toward the west, and Gabriel toward the east. Instead of focusing on their positions, though, Sam called more attention to the Latin words, reading it all through from one frame to the next.

“ _The angels shall look, toward the good shepherd, and the good shepherd, will lead the way_ ,” Sam read out loud.

“That's total crap. All the angels are looking in different directions!” Dean barked, gesturing toward the paintings.

“Who is the good shepherd?” Sam asked, flashing a questioning glance at Gabriel.

“Jesus of Nazareth,” Cas answered first, his blue eyes wandering around the sanctuary, “God's word calls him 'The Good Shepherd', in reference to his teachings. He's a sign of compassion and guidance.”

“Guidance?” Dean scoffed, “Too bad he can't guide us right now.”

“Who says he can't?” Gabriel replied, smirking.

Sam raised to stand and dust off his knees before looking at Gabe with wonder. What was he talking about? Was he saying that Jesus could guide them right now? Gabriel only smiled at him with mischievousness, looking like a child with a secret.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean asked.

“You don't go into churches very often, do you, freckles?” Gabriel grinned, shaking his head, “Don't you know what they're full of?”

“Bibles,” Dean said, tossing the archangel a glare.

“ _Crucifixes_ ,” Gabriel corrected, pointing toward the front of the church.

Everyone turned to face the wooden altar again, where a large bronze crucifix was hanging on the back wall. It seemed like a normal decoration for a church, which was probably why Sam didn't notice it before. All four of them stepped around the broken pews and the wooden altar to get to the wall at the front of the church. Sam was sure that everyone was studying the sculpture carefully, trying to find some sort of sign hidden in it. Jesus was hanging on the cross just like he did in most of the depictions of his death. But his head wasn't turned up or down. In this statue, Jesus was looking toward the floor on his left... with his eyes frozen wide open.

It seemed that Dean was the first to realize the clue. He quickly stepped toward the area on the floor and knelt down to claw the dirt and grass away. Sam quickly knelt down to help his brother, moving large chunks of floorboard and rock. They didn't know exactly what they were looking for. The Winchesters only knew that they needed to follow Jesus' guidance for once in their lives.

After a few minutes of digging at the earth and searching blindly, Dean and Sam suddenly hit something flat and smooth. They flashed a glance of surprise at each other before quickly brushing away the dirt from around the cold surface. It looked like a large floor tile made out of metal. Sam dusted away more dirt at the top to reveal a handle bolted to it.

Without a second thought, Dean and Sam both took hold of the metal handle and pulled, lifting up the metal hatch to open it. They let the iron tile fall back and clang loudly against the floor before peering down inside. It was dark under the earth, but Sam could faintly make out a set of stairs leading down into a secret chamber. The man gulped, looking up to meet eyes with Gabriel. They had done it. They had found a trapdoor to a chamber hidden beneath the church...

Where the altar was bound to be waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure where the urge to write a "Da Vinci Code" type of scene came from, but man, I certainly enjoyed writing it. :) In fact, I even read the part about the church to my parents over the phone, and they both liked it. Brings back a lot of memories. :') I'm sorry for some of the feels I gave you in this chapter. I hate to say it, but the next chapter will have even more feels. (Sorry in advance.) :( But! Never fear, my precious lil kittens! I will take good care of your hearts. ;) 
> 
> **What's going on with Destiel** : Not much in this chapter, other than the private talk they had while Sam and Gabriel were having their own. During that scene, Dean expressed his worry to Cas about the Raphael situation and how he's afraid that Raph might hurt Cas in some way. Cas thinks it's odd that Dean is worried about his safety rather than his own or Sam's. Dean attempts to lean forward and kiss Cas again, but sees that Sam and Gabriel are approaching, so he doesn't get too. (Sabriel are such cockblockers. lol) ;) 
> 
> Also, I wanted you guys to know that I won't be able to post tomorrow because I'll be super busy. But I will be back by Thursday afternoon. No worries. ;) I'm sorry for leaving you on a bit of a cliffhanger, but I promise I'll be back soon. :) Thank you all soooo much for reading and commenting and being simply awesome. My life is a tornado of feels and I swear it feels like you guys are the only thing that keeps me going sometimes. *hugs all of you* Seriously, thank you for taking the time to make my life better. <3 The next chapter will be out soon.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is very angsty and has a painful cliffhanger. And I am very sorry. :( Please read and enjoy your own risk.

Sam coughed and tried to wave away the dust that had rose out of the underground chamber as he and Dean peered inside. From what he could see, the stone stairs traveled down at an angle, giving the impression that there was probably a large room at the bottom, though he couldn't see for sure. The chamber was completely dark too, which made it difficult to tell exactly what it contained.

“Ooooh. A secret hatch!” Gabriel grinned, kneeling next to Sam, “This is some straight-up Indiana Jones stuff. Too bad I didn't bring my whip. We could have had some real fun.”

Sam held down a smile as he flashed a glance toward Gabriel's beaming face. _This_ was one of the reasons he loved Gabe so much. Because only the trickster could say something funny during a serious situation and still make Sam smile. Dean rolled his eyes at Gabe's quip about Indiana Jones before meeting eyes with his little brother.

“I guess we're playing to see who goes in first, huh?” he asked, raising his hands in a 'rock-paper-scissors' formation.

Before Sam could even lift his hands to join his brother's game, Cas blocked their view of each other by stepping up to the chamber. With the flick of his wrist, the angel unsheathed his blade from his coat sleeve and paused on the stone stairs to look at Dean.

“I'll go first,” Cas assured, already starting down the steps.

“No, wait, Cas,” Dean gasped, instantly grabbing Cas's collar to bring him to a halt, “You don't know what the hell is down there. It could be a trap for all we know.”

“Exactly,” Cas agreed, “which is why I should go and investigate before any of you attempt to venture down there.”

“And what about _you_ , huh? What if _you_ get trapped down there?” Dean asked, his voice housing apprehension.

“It's better to let harm befall me rather than any of you, Dean. Of the four of us, I am the most expendable,” the angel stated.

Dean, Sam, even Gabriel, were all suddenly looking toward Cas with stunned awe. A somber silence rested in the room for a moment as everyone stared speechlessly at the blue-eyed angel in front of them. How could Cas ever say such a thing? How could he ever entertain the idea that he was expendable? The notion was flat-out ridiculous! Cas was probably the most important piece of their group. In fact, there was a good chance that they would all be dead without Cas. Even Sam knew that...

The younger Winchester watched as Dean slowly grabbed hold of Cas's coat with both hands. His green eyes were large and full of angered disbelief, searching the angel's face in shock. Sam could see that Cas's words had affected Dean more than anyone else; that even the mere _thought_ of losing Cas made Dean feel outraged.

“Don't you ever say that again, Cas,” Dean warned, his voice threatening to crack, “We've only made it this far because of you. And we won't last a damn minute without you. So, don't you even _think_ about putting yourself on the line like that. You are too important to me. To _us,_ ” he quickly corrected, his face growing red, “You're too important to _us._ It's gonna take all of us to break that stupid altar anyway, so we're all gonna go _together_. Alright?”

Sam turned to see that Gabriel's eyes were on him; giving him a mischievous look. And even though no words were exchanged between them, Sam knew the message the archangel was trying to send. Everyone could clearly see that Cas meant more to Dean than he was willing to admit out loud. And Gabe was basically saying ' _See, kid? What'd I tell you? Our brothers totally have the hots for each other_ .' But Sam shook his head once again, disagreeing with Gabriel's sneaky glance. Just because Dean cared about Cas's safety didn't mean the two of them were actually banging each other... 

Cas hesitated for a moment on the stairs and searched Dean's face with emotion before forcing a nod.

“Very well. Let's hurry,” he said, gesturing for everyone else to follow.

As Sam and Gabe climbed to their feet, Dean was opening up his duffel bag again to pass out flashlights. Sam, of course, was used to holding a weapon and a flashlight at the same time. He knew how to scope out dark places while on the look out for danger. He took the flashlight from Dean and clicked it on to instant pointing the beam of light down the stairs. Once everyone was armed and ready, Dean slung his bag over his shoulder and started down the stone steps with Cas almost directly at his side. Sam followed along closely behind them with Gabriel pressing at his back.

“I don't like this,” Gabe whispered, his tiny voice echoing around them, “It's really dark down here.”

“It's alright, Gabe. We've got flashlights,” Sam reminded quietly, trying to sooth him.

“But this place is creepy,” the archangel continued, his voice a little louder, “And I can hear bugs crawling around. Ugh, I feel like I'm on an episode of Fear Factor. Is Joe Rogan down here? Am I gonna have to eat a cow tongue or something?”

“You're gonna be eating my fist if you don't shut up,” Dean snapped.

Sam flinched, hearing Dean's sharp voice bounce off the stone walls. He knew that the trickster needed to use humor to cope with his deeper emotions and that Gabriel was probably a little scared. But apparently, none of that mattered to Dean. Sam shifted his angel blade and flashlight into one hand so that he could briefly reach back and pat Gabe's hip, trying to comfort him as they made their way deeper into the chamber.

“Look, Gabe,” Sam whispered, “We're already at the bottom.”

They had finally made it to a large level floor that was made completely out of stone. With the scattered beams of light dancing around, Sam could see that there was a giant set of iron doors in front of them. The doors were at least ten feet high and fifteen feet wide, and Sam could tell just by looking at them that they would be difficult to open. They were made of iron and probably hadn't been moved in centuries. Plus, both door frames were covered in some kind of writing, too. Enochian, from what Sam could make out. The four of them just kind of stood there for a second, taking in the sight of these ominous iron doors. Sam was sure that the altar was just on the other side of them, waiting to be used or destroyed...

“What the hell is all that?” Dean asked, flicking his flashlight toward the markings.

“Angel wards,” Cas answered, looking toward him, “I won't be able to fly inside, Dean. My grace won't allow me to enter the room until the doors are open and I cannot touch the the doors. Whoever hid this altar did a very good job of securing it from angels. His efforts were highly skilled.”

“Well, if angels can't get in, that means Raphael can't get in either,” Sam pointed out, stepping forward to glance between Dean and Cas, “So, why don't we just leave it like it is?”

“I know my brother very well, Sam. He will use any means necessary to gain entry into this room,” Cas replied, shaking his head, “The only way to truly put an end to this is to destroy the altar. We will have to break the wards ourselves... Even if that means putting the altar at risk of being taken by Raphael.”

“Well, if we get in there fast enough, we won't have to worry about him,” Dean pointed out.

A tiny echo of a crinkle interrupted the conversation, coming from behind Sam. Everyone pointed their flashlights toward the sound, drowning Gabriel in a sea of light. The archangel was in the middle of opening up a Butterfinger when he paused to look up at everyone defensively.

“What?” he mumbled, taking a bite of the candy bar, “I get hungry when I'm nervous, okay?”

Sam smiled a little but shook his head. Poor Gabe. He wasn't used to going into creepy places and dealing with hard decisions, was he? Sam was fairly certain that the trickster would rather be running around in a candy store somewhere right now, eating his weight in Butterfingers and playing with all the toys...

Gabriel nibbled on his candy bar and edged closer to Sam as Cas suddenly strode passed them. The angel made his way to the left side of the small room, where he propped his flashlight up against the wall and rolled up his coat sleeve. Using Dean's knife, Cas sliced his own wrist open – and began drawing symbols on the wall with his blood.

“What is that for, Cas?” Dean asked, sounding protective.

“Insurance,” the angel answered, “If Raphael appears, I will activate this banishing spell and he will be sent away. He won't be gone long but it will give us more time.”

“But won't that send you away, too?” Sam asked, remembering how every single angel in the area disappeared whenever the banishing symbol was activated.

“Yes,” Cas sighed, flashing an apologetic glance toward Dean, “but it's our only defense. Now, hurry and open the doors. Time is short.”

Though Dean seemed hesitant to turn his attention away from Cas, he eventually met eyes with Sam. The two brothers nodded at each other and readied themselves before facing the iron doors. There were a few old locks joining the two sides but time had eroded them, making them weak and rusty. Dean only had to give them a few taps with the end of his angel blade and they fell apart, clanking to the floor in pieces.

Sam looked back at Gabriel while Dean worked to make sure he was still okay. Though he seemed a little nervous, Gabe was still crunching on his Butterfinger and moving his flashlight between Cas drawing on the wall and Dean smashing the locks, watching everything with large golden eyes.

“Alright, Sammy,” Dean said, taking hold of a handle on one of the doors, “I'll get this one, you get that one.”

Sam instantly knelt down to prop his own flashlight against the wall before dashing over to do as his brother said. Deep down, Sam knew that opening these doors was a bad idea. He knew that once they were open, things were going to get serious fast. But he had to trust Cas's judgment on this. If destroying the altar would stop Raphael from opening the cage – if destroying the altar would _keep Gabriel alive_ – then Sam would do it without question. The two Winchesters met eyes again and Sam could see the same nervousness in his brother's eyes. It seemed like Dean was feeling just as apprehensive about doing this.

“On three,” he said, taking a deep breath, “One... Two... _Three_.”

Sam pulled with all his might, feeling his biceps and forearms strain under the pressure. He had been right about the doors being heavy. It felt like he was trying to pull a full sized vehicle uphill rather than opening a simple door. Dean and Sam were both groaning lowly as they walked the doors open and the iron was squeaking loudly on the hinges. Sam caught a brief glance of Gabriel covering his ears and making a face of discomfort at the loud sounds while the Winchesters revealed the next room.

Once the doors were mostly open, Sam and Dean released the handles to peer into the room beyond. With the dim flashlights pointed toward the ceiling, they could see that the altar was the only thing in the space. It was made of stone just like Cas said, only it was solid white and chiseled with more Enochian markings. Honestly, Sam was almost convinced that it was made of pure ivory. The thing practically glowed in the dark. Sam felt Gabriel edge closer to peer inside for himself. Everyone just stared at it for a moment, wondering how a small stone altar could cause so much trouble...

“Such useful vessels.”

Chills raced across Sam's skin at the sound of the deep voice hissing behind him. Oh, he knew _exactly_ who that threatening tone belonged to. It wasn't Cas or Dean or Gabriel. No. It was someone who hadn't come down the stairs with them. Someone who was after the same altar...

Sam's primal instinct kicked in and he instantly spun around, stepping in front of Gabriel and pointing his angel blade forward in one swift motion. Raphael was now standing in the room with them, wearing a dark suit and devilish eyes. The archangel was clutching Cas from behind and holding an angel blade to his neck, acting out a classic hostage scenario. Even though a weapon was laying against his throat, Cas remained completely calm, keeping his blue eyes focused on Dean and his bare hands raised in the air.

“I always knew that your good intentions would be your undoing,” Raphael mused, glancing between Dean and Sam, “You've been far more helpful then I would have imagined. But, unfortunately, your avail has come to an end. Especially yours, Gabriel.”

Fire ignited in Sam's stomach and he took a small step closer to Raphael in front of him. Raphael's grip on Cas tightened at the motion, making everyone flinch as the angel blade came close to cutting Cas's neck. Sam held back for Cas's sake, but set a firm glare on Raphael's eyes. The bastard wasn't going to get away with threatening Gabriel like that. Not while Sam was around... Dean was inching closer to the archangel too, his wide eyes flashing between Cas and Raphael.

“Let him go,” Dean demanded, his voice lethal.

“I don't take orders from hairless apes!” Raphael snapped, his eyes lighting up with ferocity, “ _You_ will obey _me_ or Castiel will die. Do you understand, Winchester?”

As Raphael was speaking, Sam could see that Cas's hands were slowly lowering. The blue-eyed angel was sharing an intense stare with Dean, one they usually shared as if they were communicating without words. It wasn't until Sam caught the sight of the blood-written symbols on the wall next to Cas that he realized what was happening. Cas was carefully lowering his hand toward the angel banishing symbol and giving Dean a warning glance, letting him know that both angels were about to disappear...

Sam watched his brother give Cas a slight nod before turning his attention to Raphael. Dean's eyes turned slightly playful and he put on his best 'kiss-my-ass' smirk.

“Sorry. You lost me at hairless apes,” Dean shrugged, lowering his blade a little, “But do you know what this 'hairless ape' thinks is funny, Raphael?”

The scowling archangel narrowed his eyes more forcefully at Dean as Cas's hand journeyed closer to the blood on the wall without his awareness. After a moment of silence in which Raphael only glared at him, Dean answered his own question with a spiteful grin.

“You've got all that cosmic grace. And Cas is _still_ more powerful than you.”

As soon as the last syllable left Dean's mouth, Cas slapped his hand against the wall, causing a bright light to explode in the room. Sam, Gabriel, and Dean all shielded their eyes against the harsh glow, able to hear the angels being blasted away. The light was gone in an instant, leaving the room as silent as when they first entered it. The three of them looked around in the dim room, seeing that both Cas and Raphael were gone.

“We need to move,” Dean gulped, “Cas said it wouldn't last long.”

The older Winchester dove toward his duffel bag on the floor, ripping open the top flap to retrieve supplies from inside. He tossed a sledgehammer to Sam and the jug of holy oil to Gabriel before getting out a sledgehammer of his own.

“Gabriel, pour that in a circle on the floor in front of the altar,” he ordered, climbing back to his feet, “Sam, come and help me smash that damn thing to pieces.”

Sam was already half way to the altar before Dean even told him to do it. Somehow, it felt like every bad emotion Sam had been feeling over the past few days – worrying about Gabriel's safety, being afraid of Raphael, feeling the pain of uncertainty – all of it had been made tangible in the form of this stone altar. If there was anything Sam could blame, it was this damn block of white stone. And he was more than ready to take his anger out on it.

Though light was scarce, Sam could see and hear Gabriel pouring the holy oil in a circle in front of the altar. The trickster's hand was shaking but he was doing his best, still chomping nervously on his Butterfinger while he worked. Sam carefully edged passed Gabe's petite form to get to the rectangular rock behind him. He instantly slung the hammer around his back and brought it down hard on the stone, causing a jagged crack to appear. Ah, the sound of crunching rock was like music to Sam's ears...

“Here,” Dean said, tossing a lighter to Gabriel, “Be ready to light that thing. The minute Raphael pops back in here, I wanna see flames. Okay?”

Sam assumed that Gabriel nodded, but he didn't know for sure. Because he was too busy raising his sledgehammer to hit the altar again. The heavy head came smashing down on the block with another loud _clack_ , making a tiny piece of white rock chip from the structure. Sam tried to focus his swings on the same spot in the middle, hoping to break the thing in half. Dean soon joined in with him, helping him make a groove in the top.

As his muscles tightened during every swing, the only thing Sam could think about was Gabriel. This damn altar was the only thing standing in the way of their future. Once this rock was broken, Sam and Gabe wouldn't have to worry about the apocalypse ever again. Lucifer would stay in the cage where he belonged and Gabe wouldn't have nightmares about him anymore. Once they caught Raphael, Gabriel could finally get his grace back. And then –

Sam was suddenly ripped from where he was standing, tossed through the air like a doll. He smacked against the stone wall on the right side of the room and crumbled to the floor, groaning out loud. It wasn't until the small room lit up with fire that Sam realized that Raphael was back. The archangel had appeared in the circle of holy oil and only had time to toss both Winchesters away from the altar before Gabriel trapped in him the flames. Sam blinked and panted, watching Gabriel dash closer.

“Sammy, are you okay?!” he asked, kneeling down to help the man up.

“I'm fine, Gabe,” Sam promised, able to see the worry in Gabe's golden eyes.

“ _No_!”

Everyone looked toward Raphael, who was trapped inside the tiny circle of holy fire. His face was tight with pure rage and his hands were drawn into fists. But there wasn't a damn thing he could do, now. He was as powerful and helpless as a caged tiger, trapped and forced to watch his prey escape.

Sam and Dean both quickly returned to the altar with sledgehammers in hand. Their swings were faster this time and full of feeling. Raphael was still chorusing 'no's in the background by the time they finally managed to break it in half. The stone nearly crumbled into pieces, breaking down the middle and hitting the floor with another loud _clack_. Sam stumbled back from his hard work, feeling accomplished and out of breath. It was broken. The stupid altar was beyond repair and would never play host to spells again.

Sam strolled over to stand with Gabriel afterward, noticing that Cas had reappeared in the room near the door. The blue-eyed angel was glaring at Raphael and edging in front of Dean. In fact, they were all looking at Raphael then, watching to see what he would do. The trapped archangel was staring at the shattered remains of the altar with angered pain as if Sam and Dean had just broken his heart rather than a block of stone.

“What have you done?!” Raphael spat, glancing between the Winchesters, “Heaven will remain in chaos! I will never see my brothers again!”

“I hate to break it to you, Raphie, but that's probably a good thing,” Gabriel spoke up, shrugging his shoulders.

In the light of the fire, Sam saw something new flash on Raphael's face. The archangel was suddenly staring at Gabriel with a hint of surprise and smugness. His tense posture released and his glare faded to leave only a subtle smirk. Sam's insides churned at the sight. Why was Raphael looking at Gabriel like that? Ugh, it made Sam feel sick...

“Aren't you forgetting something, Gabriel?” Raphael barked lowly.

Sam tore his eyes away from Raphael in order to glance down at Gabriel, wondering what the hell the guy was talking about. But as the look of realization slowly come over Gabe's beautiful features, Sam felt he knew the answer. Raphael still had Gabriel's grace. And it didn't look like he was about to give it up anytime soon... Gabriel carefully knelt down to pick up an angel blade from the floor and raised it toward Raphael. There wasn't a single trace of humor left on Gabe's face. He was absolutely serious and it gave Sam chills.

“Sam,” Gabe whispered.

“Yeah?” Sam replied, meeting his eyes.

There was a look in Gabriel's eyes that Sam had never seen before. Pain and regret were potent in them and he was staring at Sam with such remorse...

“I have to open this circle,” Gabe forced out, his voice high.

“Okay. I'll help you. What do you need?” Sam asked, confused by Gabriel's hesitation.

Gabriel slowly shook his golden head and Sam could see moisture glistening in the corners of his eyes. Sam's heart picked up speed at the sight of Gabe's distress. Why was he getting upset? Why was he looking at Sam like that?

“You... You can't help me, sweetheart,” Gabe whispered sadly, “Not this time.”

Sam's heart ached, seeing the pain in Gabe's eyes. Why couldn't he help Gabriel this time? And – _dammit –_ why was he looking at Sam with those puppy-dog eyes? Why was he tearing up and getting all emotional? Was he really going to try to get his grace _back by himself_? Did he really want Sam... _to leave_? Sam's head was already shaking with disagreement. No. _Hell_ no. He wasn't going to let Gabe do this alone! Gabe was just a man! He was only _human_!

“N – no,” Sam stuttered, astounded, “No, I'm – I'm not going to _leave_ you, Gabe.”

“Sam,” Dean said, walking up to put his hand on Sam's shoulder, “The second that trap opens, Raphael will try to kill us. And Gabriel has to open it to get his grace back -”

“I don't care!” Sam shouted, yanking his arm free, “I'm not leaving him alone, Dean!”

“Sam,” Cas chimed in, “It is his decision whether or not -”

“No!” Sam denied, reaching down to take hold of Gabriel's tiny arm and look him in the eye, “Gabriel, I'm not leaving this room without you, okay?!”

Gabe's honey eyes were large and soft, holding only apology and regret. But he couldn't bring himself to speak. He only shook his head back and forth, making a tear slide down his cheek. Why was he doing this?! Why did he want Sam to go away?! Dean and Cas were both suddenly pulling on Sam's arms, tugging him toward the exit. Panic exploded through Sam's body as he was being yanked away from Gabriel.

“No! _Stop_!” Sam screamed, pulling an arm free to reach toward Gabriel, “Gabe! Please! I _love_ you, Gabe! Don't do this! Let me go, Dean! _Gabe, please_!”

Even though Sam's pleading cries were bouncing off the stone walls and even though he was trying his best to fight against Dean and Cas's hold, distance was still growing between him and Gabriel. The more Dean and Cas tugged him toward the door, the farther away Gabe became. Raphael was still trapped in the ring of holy fire behind him and tears were still running down his beautiful face. But Gabe was staring at Sam the whole time, watching in agony as he was being pulled away.

Sam was still screaming Gabriel's name by the time they crossed the threshold. As soon as they were in the other room, Cas raised his hand and the heavy iron doors began to close on their own. Sam's heart was racing with panic and fear, watching the doors separate him from Gabriel. No! Why were they doing this?! Why were they taking Gabriel away from him?! Sam caught one last glimpse of Gabriel's amber eyes before the doors slammed shut with a loud deep _bang_.

The moment Gabriel was no longer visible, hostile anger swept through Sam. He was suddenly full of rage and fear, acting on emotion. Though he tried his best to free himself from Dean and Cas's grasp, they only held on tighter, refusing to let him go.

“Get off me!” Sam growled, “I have to get to him!”

“He's gotta do this on his own, Sam!” Dean yelled back, trying to hold on to his arm.

As Sam fought frantically against his captors, a sudden flash of golden light lit up the iron door frame. The three of them paused their commotion to shield their eyes from the powerful glow as it lit up most of the room. It was gone in a matter of seconds, leaving the flashlights on the floor as the only source of illumination. Sam, Dean, and Cas, all looked at the closed iron doors, wondering what had caused it. What the hell had just happened in the other room? What was that big blast of golden light? _Was Gabriel okay_?!

Sam instantly dashed back to the doors to grab the handle and pull. His fear and adrenaline aided his efforts, helping him to tug the heavy door open as quickly as possible. Dean and Cas didn't stop him this time, either. They let Sam yank the heavy door open and run back inside.

“Gabriel?!” Sam called, looking around.

The altar room was completely dark now, because the ring of holy fire was gone. Sam quickly retrieved a nearby flashlight from the floor and used it to look around the room with a trembling hand. The altar was still broken in the corner, but there was no sign of Gabriel or Raphael. Both archangels had vanished, disappeared like smoke in the wind. Sam blinked repeatedly and spun around in circles, searching for some sort of sign. Something that could tell him what had happened in the few seconds that he was absent.

But the only thing he found was a crumpled Butterfinger wrapper on the floor.

Hot moisture swelled up in Sam's eyes as he suddenly fell to his knees. Gabriel was gone. Just like that. And there was no explanation of how or why. Sam didn't know whether he had gotten his grace back or not. Hell, Sam didn't even know if Gabriel was _alive_ or not. All he knew for sure was that his heart was broken into more pieces than the altar across the room...

Tears were slipping down Sam's cheeks as he reached down to pick up the tiny yellow wrapper. He faintly heard Cas saying ' _I'll search for them, Dean_ ,' before a rustle of wings left the room. Gentle footsteps were coming up behind Sam, but Sam couldn't bring himself to turn around. He was in too much pain to do anything except cling Gabriel's Butterfinger wrapper and let the tears keep flowing. Dean carefully crouched down next to Sam in the altar room and placed comforting hand on his back.

“It'll be okay, little brother,” Dean said lowly.

Dean's words were earnest, but Sam didn't believe them.

Because unless Gabriel was alive, nothing would ever be okay again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you guys! I'm back! :) I am sooooo sorry for those feels. This was painful for all of us, and the first part of the next chapter will be painful too. :( But if you've ever read any of my work before, then you know that there is gonna be a good ending. I promise I would never let it end this way. ;) Thank you guys so much for waiting patiently yesterday (I missed you guys! *hugs*) and for loyally reading and commenting! I love you all! <3 The next - and final - chapter will be out soon! :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The start of this chapter has some pretty painful feels, so brace yourself and hold on tight. Because the ending is totally worth it. ;) Enjoy! <3

Sam took another weary breath and stroked Dickie's back as he brought his eyes to rest on the refrigerator across the kitchen. He wasn't exactly looking at it, but looking _through_ it; trying very hard not think or feel. But it wasn't working. Because even the refrigerator reminded him of Gabriel...

After the whole altar thing happened, Dean asked Cas to fly them back to Rufus's cabin before he started his search for the archangels. Cas, of course, did as Dean requested. He showed up to fly the Winchesters home and Sam was barely able to move when he arrived. The altar room was still warm where the ring of holy fire had been burning and Sam was kneeling in the same spot Gabriel had been standing in just moments before. The initial shock of Gabe's disappearance was still affecting him when he climbed shakily to his feet, making his insides quake with anxiousness and his heart pound hard with grief.

The second after Cas touched his shoulder, Sam was vaguely aware that the scenery changed around him. The cabin was directly in front of him now. The sky was dark but the moon was out, casting a white glow on the mossy wooden porch. The windows were lit with warm light and, for a brief moment, Sam thought that Gabriel might have come back. Maybe the trickster was already waiting on the couch inside, wearing a smug expression and prepared to say ' _W_ _hat took you guys so long_?' But to Sam's utter despair, the cabin was empty. The only soul occupying the house was Dickie and he was waiting patiently at the door for them when they arrived.

Coming home to Dickie was probably the hardest part of it all. The little dog was so excited at first; barking, jumping up and down, and wiggling with energy at the sight of them. But after greeting Sam, Dean, and Cas, the dog seemed to notice that someone was missing. Sam watched him sniff around the door and do a few laps around the room, searching for his owner and probably confused by his absence. But after a few moments of anxious wandering, Dickie seemed to realize that Gabriel wasn't there. The dog's tiny wagging tail gradually slowed to stop and he shuffled back over to the rug in front of the door and sat down to stare at the door and wait.

The sight of Dickie sitting so patiently by the front door made Sam's tears start up again. How many abandoned animals were able to actually comprehend the fact that they were abandoned? How long did they sit and wait for their owners to come back before it finally sunk in that they were on their own? How long would it take Dickie to get used to the idea that Gabriel was gone? How long would it take _Sam_? After wiping his tears away, Sam walked over and scooped the little dog up into his arms. He couldn't bear the thought of Dickie just sitting there for the rest of his life, waiting for Gabriel to come back. He had to pick up Dickie and get him away from the door. Because if he didn't move the dog, Sam probably would have joined him...

Sam didn't sleep at all that night. He couldn't lay on the bunk bed, because the couch was in his direct line of view and made him recall the first night Gabriel fell asleep there. He couldn't lay on the couch either, because that was the spot where Gabriel always slept. And forget about the basement. Sam couldn't even bring himself to look at the damn basement door without thinking of their night of passion and wanting to burst into tears again. It seemed like every inch of the cabin was imprinted with some kind of memory that made Sam think of Gabe. The bathroom, where Sam first saw him naked. The fireplace, where Gabe fell asleep texting Sam. The kitchen table, where Gabe ate his first Butterfinger. Everything was a memory. And everything _hurt_.

Dean was doing the stoic brotherly thing, just like always. He asked Sam if he wanted dinner, which Sam declined woefully. And Dean made Sam a sandwich anyway, even though Sam never ate it. The thing sat on the table all night, untouched. Dean refrained from mentioning anything that related to the angels. He didn't even mention Cas and Sam was glad. Because even Cas reminded Sam of Gabriel. At some point during the night, Dean eventually wandered over to lay on the couch. The older brother fell asleep, leaving the younger to sit at the kitchen table and repeatedly stroke the warm dog in his arms.

For a long time, Sam just sat in the dark and thought about things. There was a strong possibility that Gabriel was dead. Sam couldn't deny that no matter how much it hurt. But what if he _wasn't_? What if Dean's _other_ prediction was true? What if Gabriel had gotten his grace back and was now strolling around on earth somewhere, not caring about Sam anymore? Though it made his heart ache, Sam hoped that it was true. Even if Gabe didn't love Sam anymore – even if he never gave Sam another smile, batted those beautiful eyelashes at him, or shared another delicious kiss with him – at least the archangel would be _alive_. At least Gabe would still be _out there_ , wreaking havoc on the world, one candy bar at a time...

And there was always one more possibility. Though it was small and very unlikely, there was always a chance that Gabriel was alive, with his grace, and trying his damnedest to get back to the cabin. The tiny notion both excited and sickened Sam. The other conclusions – of Gabriel being dead or just not caring anymore – were so much more plausible than him actually wanting to come back to Sam. In many ways, it felt like this entire week had been just a daydream. Sam wasn't that important in the grand scheme of things. And he especially wasn't important enough to warrant the love and affection of an archangel.

_You are the brightest, most precious thing that has ever walked the face of this earth._

Sam gulped hard when Gabriel's voice briefly passed through his memory. Why did Gabe have to say those words to him? How did he have the power to make Sam feel so wonderful and so terrible just by saying a single sentence? _No matter what happens from here on out, sweetheart, just know that I only want you to be happy. Okay?_ Ugh. Those words only made Sam feel worse, now. Sam could practically see Gabe's precious face in his mind again; remembering him standing on that hillside. His golden hair tossing around in the breeze, his moist lips curved into a smirk, his eyes – God, those _eyes_ – so full of childlike adoration.

These thoughts tormented Sam for hours. The man just sat in a numb, motionless heap in the kitchen as the sun steadily rose to light the cabin windows. He found himself glancing repeatedly toward the front door, secretly hoping that Cas would appear there with Gabriel at his side. He knew it was a long shot, but he couldn't stop himself from waiting anxiously. Sam's actions slowly started to loop themselves; glance at the door, pet Dickie, think about Gabriel, glance at the door, pet Dickie, think about Gabriel...

Sam wasn't sure how many times his eyes flickered to the door by the time Dean woke up. The sun had lit up most of the cabin by then, making almost everything visible again. Dean yawned, rubbed his eyes, and rolled off the couch. He looked around too, like he was recalling all the events that had taken place the day before. The older brother's expression was shifting between disappointment and sympathy when he walked into the kitchen to see Sam sitting there, unmoved from when he last saw him. Sam's hand was still petting the same gentle line down Dickie's back when his eyes wandered up to meet Dean's.

“Did you sleep at all, Sam?” Dean asked, his voice gruff.

Sam's head slowly shook back and forth. No. He had not slept. He was too grief stricken to sleep...

The older brother sighed aloud and wandered over to fall into the chair on the opposite side of the table. Though Dean had come to keep him company, Sam wasn't paying much attention to his brother at all. He was still watching and waiting for Cas to appear in the living room. Even if Cas didn't have Gabriel with him, the angel would at least be able to give Sam some information. He would at least know whether Gabe was alive or not, right?

“You didn't eat either, did you?” Dean grumbled, nudging the untouched sandwich on the table, “Dammit, Sammy. You need to eat something.”

Sam wanted to tell Dean that he wasn't hungry or that he would eat when he was ready, but nothing came out of his mouth. It was too difficult to locate his voice, so he just left Dean's comment alone. His eyes wandered back to the living room for the millionth time. Where was Cas? What was taking him so long?

“Look, man,” Dean began, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, “refusing sleep and starving yourself won't bring him back.”

An icy chill ran down Sam's spine as his eyes flashed back to Dean. He knew that his brother's words were true, but did Dean really have to say them that way? Did he have to sound so bitter and accusing? Sam's hand drew to a stop on Dickie's soft back. Oh, great. Now he was thinking about Gabriel again; imagining him saying ' _Yeah, kid. There's no need to starve yourself for me. Fasting is my dad's thing, not mine_.' Sam's heart ached. Shit, he missed that humor so much...

A rustle of wings filled the cabin.

Both Winchesters looked toward the living room to see Cas standing there. Sam lurched to his feet at once, jumping up to meet Cas's eyes. The quick motion startled Dickie awake and the dog's tiny head popped up from the crook of Sam's arm to scan the scene. Sam heart raced as he eyed Cas's expressionless form. Gabriel obviously wasn't with him, but Cas at least knew something, right? Did he find Gabe and Raphael? Did he know where Gabriel was? Was Gabe alive? Was he okay?

All of these questions must have been written on Sam's face because Cas's blue eyes searched over him with understanding. The angel's mouth slowly opened to release a sigh and he glanced toward the ground and shook his head. Sam's heart plummeted. No. Why was Cas shaking his head like that? What the hell did it mean?!

“I'm sorry, Sam,” the angel mumbled, “I looked everywhere, but... I didn't find them.”

Sam swallowed harshly, making his Adam's apple rise and fall with a hard thud. Cas didn't find them? What did that mean? Was he saying that he didn't find them because they were busy fighting each other somewhere? Or was he saying that he couldn't find _the aftermath_ of their fight? Was he saying that he couldn't find _their bodies_? Apparently, it could have been either one, because Cas didn't expand on his statement. He just left it like that, to be taken the way it was said.

Sam carefully stumbled back to plop down into the chair behind him again, letting Dickie wiggle out of his arm and jump to the floor. This whole situation couldn't suck any worse. Cas was back and Sam _still_ didn't know whether Gabriel was alive or not. He had nothing to go on. No evidence or facts. All Sam had was a tiny sliver of hope and it was quickly dwindling away...

Dean sighed out loud, probably hoping to catch Sam's attention. But Sam found it impossible to meet his brother's eyes. How could he look at Dean, now? Sam was sure that the words 'I told you so' were bound to fall out of Dean's mouth eventually. Dean probably couldn't wait to rub in the fact that he was right about saying ' _this is only going to end in one of two ways_.' And Sam didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the disappointment on his face.

But, surprisingly, Dean didn't say a word. He only reached over to grab something off a nearby counter and slide it across the table to Sam. The younger brother assumed that it was a cup of coffee or glass of water. But it wasn't.

It was an unopened Butterfinger.

A fresh wave of grief swept through Sam as he looked up from the candy bar to finally meet his brother's eyes. Contrary to Sam's assumption, Dean didn't look arrogant at all. His green eyes were full of apology and his mouth was tilted downward in a frown. It was apparent that Dean actually felt _sorry_ for Sam, and sliding a Butterfinger across the table was his way of saying it.

Sam's heart was hammering hard with emotion when his eyes dropped back down to the candy bar. He knew Dean was trying to do a nice thing by giving him an item that he and Gabriel talked about all the time. Dean probably thought that it would make Sam feel a little better. But, unfortunately, it had the opposite effect. Guilt and pain were coursing through Sam's body, the longer he stared at the golden wrapper.

Feeling the urge to escape, Sam ripped the Butterfinger off the table and raised to his feet, instantly starting for the front door. Dickie was following close behind Sam as the man ventured off the wooden front porch and out into Rufus's yard. He needed some fresh air. He needed sunshine. He needed to get out of the cabin that held too many memories of Gabriel. He needed to find a way to deal with this pain.

Sam was quite used to being in pain. In fact, when he broke his toe while running from a pack of werewolves a few years before, he didn't even notice it until he took his shoe off and saw the swelling. The doctor said his big toe was broken in two different places, but Sam hadn't felt a thing. Being a hunter didn't come with a lot of perks, but Sam assumed that resistance to pain must have been one of them. After taking so many hits during physical combat, the pain just kind of fades away and you're only left with scars.

But this pain wasn't physical. It was something much deeper than that. And it hurt even worse.

Sam had felt this type of pain only one other time, and that was when he lost Jessica. It wasn't just the fact that she had died but the _way_ she had died that made Sam grieve over her for such a long time. Even now, Sam would sometimes catch himself dwelling on Jessica's death; picturing her on the ceiling surrounded by fire, hearing her cry out, _smelling her burn_... It was safe to say that Sam was always in a perpetual state of grief for Jessica and probably would be forever.

But to think about staying this way over _Gabriel_ – to always wonder whether Gabe was alive or dead, to take care of Dickie for the rest of his dog years and know that he missed his owner, to stay in an endless loop of grief and hope – was simply too much. How could one person feel so much pain and not die from it? How was Sam ever supposed to get over this?

How the hell did Rose move on with her life after she lost Jack?

Sam's restless feet brought him to the edge of Rufus's lawn, where an old picnic table was sitting by a tin shed. The wooden table was facing a neighboring farm, where the wheat fields stretched on for miles. The sun was still rising and casting a beautiful glow on the swaying golden crops, but Sam wasn't in the mood for appreciating the scenery. He was just here to get away from his thoughts and feelings. Dickie was still wandering around on the ground next to him, sniffing the air as if he was searching for something. Or _someone_. Sam shook his head at Dickie's futile efforts. Poor little dog. He was never going to stop looking for Gabe, was he?

After taking another large breath, Sam brought himself to sit on the edge of the table. The warm morning breeze was tossing his lengthy hair around when he finally looked down at the Butterfinger in his hand. Gabe's first night in the cabin was suddenly brought to mind at the sight of the blue lettering on the package. _Crispety, crunchety, peanut-buttery? Dammit, why don't I ever read the fine print?_ Sam smiled sadly at the remembrance of Gabriel's funny comment. Man, Sam was so glad that he found that Butterfinger in the bottom of his duffel bag. He was so glad that he and Gabriel were able to bond over something so small; that they had shared so much laughter and affection based on a single candy bar. Even if Sam never saw Gabriel again, at least he had _this_. He would always have the memories they had shared together...

Though new tears were beginning to blur his vision, Sam looked down to carefully maneuver the candy bar in his hands. He was trying to grab both sides of the wrapper in order to open it, but his stubborn trembling fingers were refusing to work properly. Just as he was about to pull the sides apart, the candy bar slipped from his hands and fell into the tall grass. Sam blinked down at the pitiful sight of his Butterfinger laying on the ground and immediately felt worse. Son of a bitch. He couldn't even hold on to a damn candy bar, for God's sake...

“It's a sin to let those touch the ground, you know.”

Tingles raced through Sam's entire body, making goosebumps rise on his skin. The sentence had drifted on the breeze from his left and the voice sounded like a whisper from heaven. He knew that playful tone by heart. He knew exactly who it belonged to... The man carefully raised his head in order to look toward the sound, hoping that his mind didn't make it up.

To Sam's great surprise, Gabriel was standing near the tin shed on his left. The archangel was casually leaning up against the old building as if he had been standing there the whole time. And he looked absolutely  _perfect_ ; smirk intact, shaggy blonde hair tossed around his head, golden eyes glowing with amusement... For a moment, Sam was convinced that his eyes were playing tricks on him. No way! Was it really him?! Did he really win his fight against Raphael?! _Was he really alive_ ?!

As Sam stared toward Gabriel in shock, Dickie zoomed across the yard in a blur, racing through the grass to bark and jump up and down at Gabriel's feet. The little dog's tail was wagging furiously and he was trying his best to get his owner's attention. Gabe scooped him up at once to let Dickie lick his face a bit, but Gabe's eyes never left Sam's. The two of them were searching each others' expressions; Sam with disbelief and Gabe with slight confusion. In all honesty, Gabriel was probably wondering why Sam was frozen in place, because the man found himself incapable of moving or saying words. His body was too busy pumping happiness and excitement back into his system to be concerned with motor function. 

“Hey, moose,” Gabe said softly, putting Dickie back on the ground and tossing a slight wave as if he was hoping to get Sam to react.

As Sam's heart hammered hard with emotion, he finally found his voice and spoke for the first time in hours.

“G – Gabe?” he breathed, hoping to God that it was really him.

A beautiful, meaningful smile lit up Gabriel's face at the sound of Sam's voice.

“The one and only,” he answered, holding his arms wide open for effect.

That was all Sam needed to hear. He was suddenly sliding off the picnic table and stumbling toward Gabriel with his arms stretched out, lurching toward him without a second thought. The man instantly took the archangel's head in his hands first, cradling Gabe's lovely face so that he could search it. Gabriel's blonde hair was soft against Sam's trembling fingers and his skin was smooth and warm. It was him! It was really him! Gabriel's signature playfulness was present in those shining honey eyes...

“ _Gabe_!” Sam repeated with a smile.

The man crushed the archangel into a sudden frantic hug, squeezing him tight and spinning around. He could hear the sweet sound of Gabriel chuckling in his ear as they spun and feel Dickie dancing around at their feet with delight. Sam's heart felt swollen with joy. It felt like all the pain he had been feeling for hours was finally fading away. Gabriel was alive. His heart was beating and his laugh was echoing through Rufus's yard. And he was _in Sam's arms,_ where he belonged.

“Whoa, kid, this is quite the welcome!” Gabe laughed, clinging to Sam's shoulders, “Did you miss me or something?”

Instead of replying to Gabriel's question, Sam merely stopped spinning in order to bring their mouths together. They stumbled against the tin shed with their lips connected, clinging tightly to one another as their eyes fluttered shut. Never before did a kiss made Sam feel so alive. It was as if the mere act of kissing Gabriel was able to revive every cell in his body, waking it back up so that it could cope with the amount of happiness running through it. And, _shit_ , Gabe's mouth tasted so damn good. Better than it ever had before. Sam's tongue was practically running laps around Gabriel's, circling it in a nonstop sprint. Only when his lungs begged for oxygen did Sam's mouth finally release Gabe's. The man's hands never let go of him, though. They stayed clenched around the archangel's tiny back, unwilling to depart from him. Gabriel stared back at him with dazed eyes as if their reunion kiss had effected him, too.

“Wow,” he grinned, reaching up to rake Sam's hair back, “I guess you _did_ miss me.”

“I – I thought you were dead,” Sam panted, blinking down at Gabe's beautiful face again, “I thought Raphael was gonna -”

“ _Dead_?” Gabe interrupted, sounding on the verge of more laughter, “Oh, come on, Sammy-boy. You know that nobody can kill the trickster. Not even your bonehead brother could kill me, remember?”

“But, Raphael had your grace,” Sam reminded, his hands still caressing Gabe's back, “You were just _human_. What happened when you disappeared, Gabe? Where did you go?”

A hint of guilt flickered on Gabriel's expression as he played with a strand of Sam's hair. His golden eyes were boring up at Sam with honest emotion too, as if he was about to relive a painful memory.

“I'm so sorry I sent you away, Sam,” the archangel mumbled truthfully, “I was just trying to keep you safe. 'Cause I knew Raphie was gonna snap his fingers the minute I opened that trap and I couldn't stand the thought of you getting hurt, kid. I didn't want you to leave, but I had to do it without you.”

Sam gulped, feeling a subtle twinge of his own guilt. He shook his head a bit to show that he was fine with it so that Gabriel would continue his story. The archangel cleared his throat before going on.

“As soon as I knew you were safe on the other side of that door, I sprung Raphie out of the trap. I was pretty sure he was going to kill me the second he was free, and he _did_ snap his fingers. But when he gave his little love snap, we were both blasted to the desert instead.”

“The desert?” Sam repeated, lost.

“Yeah. I'm not sure which one. Probably the Sahara. The sand was really grainy,” Gabriel shrugged.

“But, why?” Sam asked.

“Well, I'm probably going out on a limb by saying this, but I'm pretty sure that angel can't be killed by his own grace,” Gabe smirked, “When we landed in the sand, Raphael was trying his best to blast me away, but it just wasn't working. My grace just kept misfiring on him like it was refusing to hit me. He eventually gave up trying to smite me and started beating the shit out of me instead. I tried running away from him. But do you know how hard it is to run away from an archangel that's hell-bent on killing you while you're in the desert with nothing to hide behind? It's virtually impossible, kid. Believe me.”

Gabe paused for a second, probably realizing that Sam's face was tight with concern, before moving on with the story.

“Anyway,” Gabriel said, his fingers still playing in Sam's hair, “We fought for a few hours like that. I kept running and he kept popping up in front of me with another punch. I still had the angel blade, so I was able to get a few good scrapes in, but I eventually ran out of steam. The sun was coming up by then and I was flat on my back staring up at the sky. He was hovering over me and I was sure that I was a goner. One more good hit and I was gonna be seeing my daddy again. The angel blade was still in my hand, but I barely had enough strength left to lift it and Raphael was already raising his fist. But do you know what I was thinking about, in that moment, Sam?”

Sam instantly shook his head, unable to imagine what thoughts must have been racing through Gabe's head at the time. The archangel smiled meaningfully as his hand dropped down to cup the side of the man's face.

“I was thinking, ' _Man. What would Sam Winchester do right now_?” he grinned, making Sam's insides bubble with delight, “So, I fought against the pain and raised that angel blade up to strike him. I slit Raphie's throat, just like he did to me, and my grace came pouring of his neck. It filled me back up like it couldn't wait to see me again. Ugh, it felt so good to have my grace back... but...”

Sam gulped, seeing pain briefly fill Gabe's honey eyes. His smile slipped away for a second as he glanced down at the ground.

“But,” he repeated, taking a weary breath, “I had to kill my brother to do it. And I'm not proud of that.”

Sam hated seeing Gabe in such a state of guilt. He knew that archangels had some weird unwritten law; that they never killed each other unless absolutely necessary. And even though Raphael had fully earned the right to have justice served on him, Gabriel still felt guilty about ending his life. And Sam could understand his disposition. The man reached down to tilt the archangel's chin back up so that their eyes would meet again.

“You can't even begin to imagine how happy I am to see you,” Sam said gently, hoping to comfort him, “No matter what it took to get you here, I'm glad you did it.”

Gabriel's smile carefully returned, brightening up his pretty face again.

“Me too,” he replied softly, rubbing his thumb against Sam's cheek, “It's so good to see your big, moosie face again, sweetheart. You're just as peachy and perfect as ever.”

Sam's face filled with a blush. Only Gabriel could say something like that and make him feel as shy as a school girl.

“So, you got your grace back?” Sam asked, wanting to make sure.

The mischievous grin that spread on Gabe's lips made Sam's insides tighten with excitement. One of the archangel's hands slipped away from Sam's body and he snapped his fingers together with a raised eyebrow. And suddenly, the clouds above them broke open – and Butterfingers started raining from the sky. Sam laughed out loud as the candy fell all around them, surrounding them in a sea of yellow and blue wrappers. Dickie was dashing around too, dodging random Butterfingers with bewilderment. Hell yes, Gabriel had gotten his grace back. And it seemed like he was very eager to put it to use. The ridiculous amount of candy was starting to pile up around them when Sam leaned down to join their lips together again. Gabe kissed Sam back for a moment before pulling away to sigh dramatically.

“Ah. I've always wanted to kiss you while candy rained from the sky,” he mused, reaching out to grab a Butterfinger in midair, “You want to share one, moose?”

Sam's eyebrows suddenly raised in surprise. The mention of eating food had reminded him of Dean trying to get him to eat earlier – and made him realize that neither Dean nor Cas knew that Gabriel was back yet.

“Dean and Cas,” Sam gasped, over the sound of Butterfingers hitting the ground, “They don't know that you're back, Gabe.”

Gabriel raised his hand and the candy bars stopped falling from the sky. Butterfingers were scattered all over Rufus's yard. The only bare spot was the small circle of grass that Sam and Gabe were standing in. The archangel's smile flickered wider as he reached down to take the man by the arm and tug him toward the cabin.

“Well, let's go show them!” Gabriel rejoiced, “Come on, moose! Move those big hooves!”

Sam chuckled as he raced behind Gabe, trying his best to avoid stepping on all the Butterfingers sprinkled on the ground. Dickie was barking and running at their heels, seeming overwhelmingly happy to be with his reunited owners. Sam was sure that Cas would be happy to see Gabriel again. He thought the angel might actually even hug Gabe for once and let himself feel an actual emotion. Dean, of course, probably wouldn't be as happy as Sam or even Cas, but he might at least be happy for Sam. Gabriel came to stop but the cabin door and tossed a wink at Sam before opening the door and dashing inside.

“Cassie! Freckles! Guess who's back!” he sang.

Sam was grinning when he followed Gabe into the cabin – but his mouth fell open in shock as soon as he looked up to see what was happening in the living room. Cas and Dean were standing near the fireplace, both topless with their arms wrapped around each other. It seemed like their lips were darkened and wet, and their hair was tussled – as if they had been _making out_. And their bare chests were _touching_ , rubbing against each other as they panted for breath. Dean and Cas were were both looking toward Sam and Gabriel with large fearful eyes, pale and frozen like deer in headlights.

Sam was honestly too shocked to blink, let alone move. Holy shit, Gabe was right! Dean and Cas really _were_ banging each other! He couldn't believe it! Dean's huge eyes were glancing between Sam and Gabriel as he tightened his arms around Cas and his cheeks filled with blood. The room was filled with awkward silence for a solid ten seconds before Gabriel chuckled nervously.

“Oops,” he smiled, backing toward the door and pulling Sam along, “Sorry for interrupting you guys. We'll, uh, we'll just be outside. Let us know when you're done.”

Sam's feet stumbled alone with Gabriel's grip but his eyes remained glued to his older brother and the blue-eyed angel in his arms, unable to look away. Dean and Sam's eyes were connected when Gabe slammed the door shut, finally blocking their view of each other. Sam blinked repeatedly at the wood, still full of disbelief. Gabriel was giggling at his side, doubled over with humor.

“They – they're banging each other!” Sam breathed in shock, glancing down at the laughing archangel.

Gabe wiped his golden eyes free of moisture before looking up at Sam.

“Well, duh. I told you they were,” he grinned, “Say, don't you owe me some money, now?”

“What? No,” Sam denied, “We didn't make a bet.”

“Hmph. That's too bad,” Gabriel said, stepping close to wrap his small arms around Sam's torso, “I would be rolling in dough right now.”

“Ha. Yeah, right,” Sam smiled, cradling Gabe close on the porch, “You, of all people, should know that I don't have money to give away.”

“Who says I would ask you for money?” Gabe replied, his face easing upward, “No, no, baby moose. I wouldn't take your _money_.”

Sam knew that tone Gabriel was using. It was his playful tone. His _sexy_ tone. The man was leaning his own lips downward in order to whisper.

“Oh, yeah? Then, what would you take from me? All my Butterfingers?” he asked, knowing it was probably the answer.

Gabriel shook his golden head, letting his eyes wander toward Sam's lips.

“I would take all of your kisses,” he answered.

Sam sighed with happiness as he closed the distance between their lips. This kiss was more meaningful than all the ones they had shared before it, full of love and relentless passion. Sam cradled Gabriel's tiny form as close to him as possible, making sure that no space was left between them. He was never going to let him go again. Not for anything. Their lips carefully parted, allowing them to look at each other properly again. Sam rested his forehead against Gabriel's to stare down into his beautiful eyes.

“You wouldn't have to take them, Gabe. I would give them to you,” he said truthfully.

Gabriel's smile dimmed a bit and he stared up at Sam with total seriousness.

“I love you, Sam,” he uttered, sounding more honest than ever.

Sam smiled and took a deep breath, letting his lungs fill with Gabriel's sweet scent. He would never get tired of hearing those words spoken in Gabe's voice. He wanted to hear them everyday for the rest of his life. He wanted to wake up every morning and see the very same beautiful face he was staring at now. Sam wanted to keep Gabriel forever and never let him go.

“I love you too, Gabe,” he breathed softly.

“More than Butterfingers?” Gabriel asked, wearing his best smirk.

Sam gave a chuckle and nuzzled deeper into his arms.

“More than Butterfingers,” Sam agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... and they lived happily ever after.  <3 I'm sorry about the feels at the beginning, but our Butterfinger-lovin' Trickster is back for good, grace and all. And Sam is gonna keep him forever. ;) 
> 
> **As for Destiel** : Cas was telling the truth when he came back to the cabin. He stayed out all night and searched everywhere for Gabriel and Raphael. (Everywhere except the Sahara Desert, of course.) The events from the chapter take place, Sam grabs the Butterfinger off the table and storms out to sit on the picnic table, leaving Cas and Dean alone in the cabin. Dean gets up from the kitchen table, goes over to the living room window to look out at Sam, and mentions how he feels bad for him. Cas nods. Then, Dean softly explains that if the situation were reversed - If _Cas_ was gone instead of _Gabriel_ \- he wouldn't be able to handle it as well as Sam. "Why not?" Cas asks out of curiosity. Dean turns to shake his head at the oblivious angel. "Do you seriously not know by now? ... Dammit, Cas... I love you, okay?" he finally says. Cas is surprised that Dean would admit his feelings so easily and sound so honest doing it. Before Cas can say anything, the two of them kiss. Clothes start slowly disappearing from their bodies while they make out - then Gabriel and Sam barge in. ;) Gabe says his line and pulls Sam back out of the room, leaving Destiel alone again. Dean mumbles profanities and is obviously embarrassed, but Cas pulls him close again to whisper the words "I love you too" ... and they also live happily ever after. :)
> 
> I hope that you guys enjoyed this story! Thank you so much for reading and commenting on every chapter. You have no idea how much it impacts my life. Seriously, thank you! <3 This fic is officially finished and I have about five more to post to this site. But for now, I'm going to swing back over to FF.net and work on part four of a series I've been working on. If you find yourself incapable of waiting for the other stories to get posted here, you can always check them out on FF.net:
> 
> https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2406331/Snailhair101
> 
> I wholeheartedly appreciate every single one of you for taking the time to read and comment on my works. I'm happy that I can provide a few more Sabriel and Destiel fics to this fandom and entertain you for a while. ;) Thank you so much for sticking around and being awesome! I'll see you again soon! *hugs and kisses* <3


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